Stranger in those Homicidal Eyes
by Anonymous Void
Summary: Even with a blank slate, your past can still haunt you, especially in a redneck mountain town like South Park.
1. Ice is Not Nice

Author's Note: New story, old characters, and maybe some new ones, the latter being ones you decide on. Yes, I am accepting OCs; how long will I accept them, well you'll know as long as the summary says I need them. So please, send them in. The sooner, the better, and the faster the next chapter comes out. Blackmail? Sure but I have yet to write up the next chapter or get ahead like I with Dance of the Devils. Not enough time has passed. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, violence

Stranger in those Homicidal Eyes

Ice is Not Nice

Spring, the season where life emerged from the bitter frost and heartless ice of winter, the seeds of yesteryear taking root and clawing out of the cold, hard ground to the sun and sky above.

In South Park, Colorado, that didn't really happen.

For about ten months, if you were lucky, out of the year, the ground was covered in an ever-present layer of snow that had a strangle hold on all life. Really, if you wanted to know if spring had come, you tested the ice on Stark's Pond. During the late fall and the entire winter, the pond would be covered in a thick blanket of ice, ice so solid you could build a house on it and not have to worry about the ice cracking.

No kidding, someone actually tried. The McCormicks to be precise but come spring thaw, the house sank and Kenny died.

And life went on.

But back to the main point. The citizens of South Park knew spring would arrive whenever the ice on Stark's Pond would become thin and easily cracked. Only then would the denizens feel it safe enough to take down all the Christmas decorations they were too lazy to put away and start getting ready for Easter, all the while paying attention to the news to see who was the next big time celebrity that they needed to tear down and sacrifice.

It was looking like Justin Beiber was a shoe-in for this year.

It was about the middle of March when Charlotte "Charlie" White found herself being forced by her mother in taking her younger sisters out for some ice skating. It was a Saturday and all Charlie felt like doing was staying in her warm bed and doing absolutely shit as she wasted the day away.

Of course, most of that blame could have been put on Tammy, her youngest sister. The now seven year old had gotten her hands into something that had contained a lot of sugar, enough to have her bouncing off the walls and furniture, loud noise included. Her mother was currently working on her next book and, according to her, couldn't concentrate with all that racket.

Thus she had corralled her and forced her to take both Tammy and Stella, her more mature but still younger sister, out to distract them and had handed her a few pairs of ice skates on their way out being shoved through their front door.

When Stella had given her an expectant look and Tammy a more hopeful one, Charlie had sighed and stopped banging on the door, demanded her mother unlock the damn thing before she set the house on fire again.

It wasn't because she was giving up, mind you, it was because she had left her lighter in the house.

So leaving their mother to her peace and quiet, she had taken her sisters to the nearest ice pond, which so happened to be Stark's. Upon arrival, she found a bunch of kids from school there. Funny, she would have thought they'd be at the mall…and why hadn't she thought to go there first instead of here?

She found out soon enough that the ice rink at the mall was closed for some repairs. Someone had vandalized the ice machine and stolen all the coolant needed to freeze the necessary amount of water.

Fucking figured it would happen. Now, who would be crazy enough to steal coolant fluids anyway?

She spied Eric Cartman and Kenny McCormick from the corner of her eye. Yeah, Cartman was stupid enough to do something like that and Kenny, well, he'd do it for the "lolz" as they say in internet speak. Hmm, that investigating quality instilled by countless readings of Sherlock Holmes was starting to act up again.

Lost in her musings, she failed to notice Stella ditching her and leaving her to babysit Tammy who was at her side and thrusting her pair of skates to her. "Help me Charlie," the young girl pleaded, pressing the skates into her hands.

So much for family sticking together…

"Alright," she sighed as she bent down, loosening the laces on the skates. You'd think the girl would have learned to tie the laces on her own shoes, or skates in this case, but Tammy had never really learned to do it herself, their mother still helping her get dressed in the mornings.

The way Charlie figured it, their mother was trying to make up for lost time, time that was intended to be used on her but was usurped by them having to flee the country to escape her brother's homicidal insanity.

A sudden slap of cold hitting her on the side of her face brought her out of her musings and her hand was against the side of her face. Pulling her hand away, she came to the realization that someone had just pegged her with a snowball.

…oh hell no.

She spun around on her heel, nostrils flaring as her sharp eyes scanned for the perpetrator, catching a laughing Cartman in his large red coat and blue and yellow poof ball hat who just happened to be in the midst of making another snowball, the parka clad but hoodless Kenny chuckling right beside him. With her eyes narrowing, she scooped up a clump of snow, a small rock embedded in it, hastily packing it into a more round form then shooting it accurately at Cartman, striking the lardass right in his gut. Smirking, she marched her way over to the wheezing boy, eager for more retribution.

"Hey, nice shot Lottery Ticket," Kenny exclaimed to her, the poor sack of shit working to keep his fat friend from falling onto his ass, not an easy feat as he was working against two hundred pounds of solid fat.

"Next one's yours, ass," she said sweetly while projecting a menacing aura.

"Can't you hoes take a joke anymore?" Cartman demanded as he glared up at her.

"Hitting me in the side of the head is suppose to be a joke?" she asked dryly. "So you really were aiming for me, weren't you?"

"Um, er…" Cartman's eyes darted from side to side. "Well…you know, you just happened to be in the general direction as my snowball, and you know, I can't control where that thing goes and—"

"He was aiming for you," Kenny said helpfully.

"Shut up Kenny!" Cartman growled, glaring at the blond.

"Well, to be honest, I'm not mad about that," she said.

"Huh? Really?" Cartman blurted, staring at her stumped.

"No, it's just that you could have hit my little sister," she continued. "And for that, I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you. Don't take this personally but it's just that your face is in the general direction that my fist is going to be."

"Now, hold on a minute," Cartman yelped. "There's no need to get physical now. We can work something else."

From nearby, Stan and Kyle had appeared and the two were watching it play out, neither of them motivated enough to come to their friend's aid, which sat just fine with Charlie who was not in the mood for this bullshit. Both appeared bored, Stan snug in a green lettermen jacket and placing his weight on one leg while the slightly shorter Kyle looked more put upon, his eyes rolling upwards towards his ratty looking ushanka.

In fact, Kyle suggested quite loudly, "Be careful, Charlie, you might get you hand stuck in a fold of fat and have to go to the hospital to get it out."

"Yeah," Stan agreed. "Try doing a purple nurple instead."

"Stan, Kyle, you assholes!" Cartman yowled.

"Hey, hey, there's no need to get violent now," Kenny cut in. "Tell you want," he continued, looking her dead in the eye, "I'll come home with you and make it all up to you. If you want, I'll do things with you I wouldn't do with a farm animal, okay?"

"I'll pass," she refused. "Besides, I'm going to pound you as well, McCormick."

"Oh, you know you can be rough with me anytime," Kenny purred, winking at her saucily.

Her leg tensed reflexively, as if preparing to lift off the ground and find itself straight in Kenny's crotch but let it not be said that Charlie didn't have some restraint. There wasn't much to begin with but hey, it was the thought that counted.

"Hey, isn't that a conveniently distracting stranger talking to your sister?" Cartman suddenly exclaimed, pointing a chubby finger at something behind her.

Charlie knew this ploy, the whole "there's something right behind you, please turn around so I can attack/run away from you" trick, but she was ashamed to say that she was actually turning her head to look at what Cartman was pointing at.

Her blood froze as she spied a dark clad figure kneeling next to Tammy, a fiercely protective surge flooding her body as she stomped away from the South Park Four.

Now, what exactly was urgent enough that caused such a free-willed person such as her to break off from attempting to beat up a peer? Well, it might have to be due to the fact that she had some history with that black-clad stranger who wasn't as much of a stranger as she liked for him to be.

The person's heterochromatic eyes peered up at her smugly for a moment before turning back to Tammy who was telling him that one of her skates were tied too tightly. She was looking up at him with hopeful eyes and the guy chuckled down at her, his slender fingers messing with the knot in the shoelaces.

He was unsuccessful at loosening the knot, though, and much to her alarm he reached into a pocket of the trenchcoat he wore, pulling out a switchblade, one whose sharpness she knew all too well.

It was instinctive; she threw herself at the guy, tackling him and knocking him away from her little sister. There was no way in hell she was going to be risking Tammy's wellbeing with this bastard so close.

"You got a lot of fucking nerve, dickwad," she spat at the boy.

Bain Cynis, the bane of her existence merely smirked back up at her as if used to this kind of treatment all the time. "Why am I not surprised you're throwing yourself at me, Charlotte?" he taunted. "Have you no values?"

"Like yours?" she shot back. "Wait, you don't have any values!"

"Now is that anyway to be treating the person who was taking care of your sister?" he retorted. "One could say that your priorities are skewed." With that, he shoved her off of him and sat up, his switchblade still in hand. Huh, she would've have thought that he have dropped it. Whenever she dealt with him in the past, his knives were easy to take away from him.

"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black," she snapped back, glaring at him.

"Last I checked, I was as white as snow," Bain replied casually as he bent down and took a hold of Tammy's foot. Hey, wait a minute, how had he…? When had he…? Shit!

Bain dug the tip of his blade into the knot and wiggled it around some, loosening it the knot enough that he was able undo it then retie it. Tammy beamed up at Bain, something that Charlie found so wrong in so many ways. Why hadn't Bain tried to pick a fight already? And now that she thought about it, why hadn't he used the multitudes of pet names he had for her? You know, names like "cunt," "bitch," and "whore?"

Then it hit her. All the previous times she had dealt with the bastard, her little sister hadn't been there. Now it was starting to make sense; Bain was sucking up to her family and trying to alienate her from them all the while making him seem to be some sort of paragon of virtue. And damn it, she could see that it was starting to work with Tammy, seeing how her little sister was beaming up at the psycho.

It was sneaky, underhanded, but something she should have expected out of him. His timing was way off but now that she thought about it, he hadn't much interaction with her family outside of her mom driving him to the hospital the first day they met (and fought) and her telling Stella about him in confidence.

"That should do it," Bain commented as he folded up his switchblade and put it away. He tousled Tammy's hair, the little girl giggling at the contact and watching him with worshipping eyes (shit, shit, shit!). He walked away from the girl, a smug smirk on his face but when he moved in close to Charlie, he stopped and leaned close to her, so close that he was able to whisper, "Stupidity must run in her family, eh my worthless little bitch?"

That asshole, he knew how to play her, didn't he? He knew that she couldn't stand being called worthless and bitch in the same insult. She couldn't help herself, she just couldn't; she saw red and the next thing she knew, her fist was reacquainting itself with Bain's face, slamming against his left cheek and forcing him to stumble back and away from her.

Bain glared at her in outrage for a moment but then his expression morphed into a smug one. Something was nagging at her from the back of her mind but she didn't heeded it as her only thoughts were to crush this punk.

She charged at him, Bain stepping to a side while holding up a corner of his trenchcoat like a matador's cape. She found herself running through the fabric and spinning around on her heel and tackling the asshole from behind. Bain laid on his front on the ground with Charlie pressing against his back but he quickly pushed himself off the ground and rolled them over so now her back was against the snowy ground. He raised an arm up and swung his elbow down into her side.

She couldn't help but cry out in shock, Bain rolling off her and scrambling to his feet. Not one to be taken out quickly, Charlie rolled onto her front and shoved herself back onto her feet just in time to see Bain pull out his favorite knife, and no it wasn't the switchblade. It was a large, metal clad hunting knife that the psycho affectionately called Winslow. She had no idea why and just chalked it up to him being crazy as usual.

By now their scuffle had attracted attention from the other kids. They were slowly forming a ring of sorts, one side of it cornered off by the frozen over pond itself. They had just begun their cheering and calls but were silenced when Bain pulled out Winslow, a hush falling over them. Suddenly this wasn't any old playground fight anymore…

Charlie, though, wasn't intimidated by the weapon. It wasn't the first time one had been pulled out on her and thus she knew how to adjust to the situation as she began circling Bain, the asshole reciprocating the action in turn. He held Winslow in experienced hands, reading to either stab it at her or throw it. Whether or not he had been practicing with that last one, she did not know.

Bain feinted at her, taking a step forward but pulling back in the next second, attempting to make her paranoid. She resisted rolling her eyes at that; she had been in plenty of fights before and knew when to tell if someone was feinting or going in for the attack. Years of dealing with her own brother had taught her that much.

Then Bain went in for the kill, but she was ready to meet him. As Bain slashed Winslow at her, she knocked the armed hand away and used the opening to smash her palm into Bain's face, knocking his head back. Bain snapped his head forward but backed away quickly, eyeing her critically. Not letting him take the time to get reoriented, she charged him, slamming her shoulder into his stomach, causing him to "oomph" and pull away. She raised a leg up and swung it, landing a blow into his ribs and forcing him to stumble closer to the pond.

Bain clutched at his side, sneering at her. Charlie, though, felt pumped, a heady feeling that was urging her to not only beat him up but humiliate him as well. Perhaps then he would think twice before trying to start shit with her again.

However, Bain backed away from her, paradoxically gesturing to her to follow him. Oh, he wanted to do this in private now? He started it out in the open and it would be in the open that she'd finish it. Then Bain took a step onto the frozen pond and then another and another. Now he was smirking at her, nonverbally taunting her.

"What's wrong?" he said out loud. "Scared of a little ice?"

Well, she couldn't let that one go now could she. Squaring her shoulders, she boldly followed after Bain but it was on her first step that she soon remembered one important fact: she couldn't walk on ice for shit.

Sure she had spent some time up in Russia where it was cold 365 days out of the year and ice was not something new to be traversed on but it had been a skill that had eluded her all the same. The fact that Bain didn't seem to have a problem though just rankled in her keister.

"Problem?" he taunted. "I'll give you a hint, grip with your toes."

"I don't need your help," she glared at him, unsteadily holding her balance on the frozen surface.

"C'mon Charlie!" she heard someone cheer at her, reminding her that they still had an audience.

Unfortunately, it distracted her enough that Bain was able to notice and take advantage of it. He was in front of her before she knew it and she barely caught his arm, the tip of Winslow inches from her face. The force from Bain's swing had her feet sliding against the ice and further onto Stark's than she would have liked and once again she almost lost her balance.

Bain was also in front of her again, jabbing Winslow at her, aiming mainly for her legs and abdominal region. She parried each jabbing thrust with her hands, inwardly thanking her father for that one small mercy. Then she felt something smack her in the face and a second later she realized that while she had been distracted by Bain's knife, she hadn't notice him pull his other arm back and then backhand her. The result of this was that now she was on her ass on a frozen pond and were those cracks she could feel against her rump?

No time to think about that, she pushed herself out of the way as Bain stabbed Winslow down at her, the blade plunging into the ice. She could see water starting to ooze around where the knife had penetrated the ice and she paled at the realization that the pond wasn't as frozen over as she had thought.

They were practically fighting on thin ice.

Bain seemed heedless of this as he pulled Winslow out. Knowing that he'd screw them both over if he kept it up like this, she kicked Bain's feet out from under him, a feat made easier since the ice he was standing on was slippery. He fell away from where he had stabbed Winslow and Charlie managed to grabbed the arm that held the knife. She hit the hand against the ice, trying to jar Winslow loose and when she succeeded, she snatched it up and threw it as far away as she could, the blade vanishing into a pile of snow several yards away from the pond.

She then felt Bain knock her away from him then felt a weight against her back, soon followed by an arm wrapping around her neck. She grabbed at the arm as pressure was applied and managed to gain enough wiggle room that she could throw her head forward and then back, slamming the back of her skull into Bain's face and causing him to release her.

Wanting to get on more surer ground, Charlie scrambled away from the bastard, unable to get up onto her feet as she couldn't get enough friction under her footwear. She settled for pushing herself against the ice, inching towards safety ever so slowly.

Behind her, Bain was getting to his feet, something she felt quite envious about, and was starting to stalk after her.

This didn't look good.

* * *

"Man, I wish I brought some Cheezy Poofs," Cartman whined as he watched the fight between "the lovebirds" as a few people at school called them.

"Only you would think of food," Kyle scoffed at him. "Don't you fucking realize how dangerous this is?"

"Yeah, that's why it's so much more entertaining," he shrugged. Narrowing his eyes, he muttered, "Damn it, what are they doing now?" He took a step closer to the frozen pond, his foot just inches away from the ice.

"Uh, Cartman?" Stan spoke up. "I don't think that's a good idea. Could you get away from the pond?"

He frowned at the pussy jock and sneered. "Or what, hippie?" He looked down and then back at Stan. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"I'm just saying you shouldn't get too close," Stan shrugged, though there was worry that was visible in his eyes.

"You might just fall through," Kyle added.

"Oh, that's real mature," he snarked. "How many times do I have to tell yous guys? I'm not fat! Here, I'll prove it!" He took a step onto the ice, much to his friend's slowly growing panic.

"Cartman," Stan said urgently.

"You're such a pussy," Cartman rolled his eyes as he pressed his weight down on his foot. Promptly, his foot broke right through the ice, a large crack shooting across the pond, practically splitting it in half, water sloshing out of it.

"Ey! What the hell!" he roared. "This is all your fault!" he accused, glaring at Stan and Kyle. He really hated those guys…

* * *

She was right in his sights. Bain was slightly amused that the girl who seemed to best him in almost any physical arena was bested by a little ice. He was enjoying this, the bitch was almost helpless, left to his mercy as it were.

Too bad he didn't have any.

And it figured that he had to lose Winslow right before this. Oh well, you had to make do with what you had.

There was a loud snapping sound in the air and he stopped, snapping his head around to glare at the noise's source. His rage intensified to find that Eric Cartman was right there but that rage drained out of him quickly as he saw the erupting crack in the ice, the crack cutting him off from Charlotte.

Taking in how big the crack was, he scoffed at it. The water wasn't really an obstacle; he could just step over it and still get his hands on the cunt. Nothing to worry about.

He took a step closer to Charlotte, keeping an eye on the crack long enough to gauge out how large of a step he was going to take next. In hindsight, he probably should have just stopped and gone another way, he would admit. Of course, despite being an intellectual among a culture of retarded rednecks, he didn't noticed that what water that had seeped out of the ice had slickened the surface that he was about to set foot on.

In short, as soon as he placed his foot on the other side of the crack, he slipped. As soon as he felt his foot sliding forward, he tried to abort and pull back, trying to shift his weight to his other foot but in order to do that, he had to scoot that foot forward and onto more slickened ice.

It was almost comical how he tried to keep his balance, his feet almost out of control as he windmilled his arms. Finally, gravity took over and unable to remain standing, he fell backwards onto the ice, directly over the crack. He almost blacked out as the back of his head slammed into the ice but the instant sensation of a thousand knives stabbing into him brought him back.

The cold surrounded him and he was finding it hard to breathe as whenever he opened his mouth, a liquid was rush in instead of air.

In the next second, it hit him, he had fallen through the ice and was underwater.

It didn't help that he didn't know how to swim either, always refusing to learn because he was living in the middle of the Rockies and what need would he had to swim when he didn't see himself ever getting into a body of water bigger than a bathtub.

His head throbbed with pain and he struggled in the water, trying to reach for the surface that was slowly drifting away from him inch by inch. His breathing was impaired as his lungs were filled with water and no matter how many times he gagged, he couldn't clear them. His vision was flashing and as he struggled helplessly, his mind reminded him of a time when he had been in a similar situation.

The murky water was replaced with flashes of red fruit and the primal fear that he had felt back then rushed in to strengthen his weakening efforts for survival. It was becoming all too much; he was surrounded, being crushed, by apples or water, he could no longer tell.

Finally as he felt a surface touch his booted feet, his mind blanked out and his vision blackened.

Who'd have ever thought…it would end…like…this…

* * *

Author's Note: Want to find out what happens next? You know what to do. Submit those OCs. There's not a lot of space this time around but that'll just mean I'll be able to do more with your character. The more diverse, the better. One last thing, I'm not guaranteeing that if you want your character to be paired with something that they'll get their man/woman. Makes for some drama and we all know South Park needs it.


	2. Dead from the Neck Up

Author's Note: Nice response but I know better. I know the pattern but hopefully, I'll be able to keep your interests in this story longer. If I haven't used your OCs yet, do not worry, I like to pace myself so that each one gets an introduction at a timely manner. I've got roles for a good amount of those submitted but what roles will they be, you'll just have to find out. Don't know if I should take the request for OCs down yet since a couple sent in more than one OC but I'll keep it up and see what the response for this chapter will be. I bet you'll figure out what this is all about come then end of the chapter, though… Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

Dead from the Neck Up

It was a bit of a struggle but finally, Charlie reached the shore of the icy pond, eyeing how the cracks in the ice made a spider-web pattern with one prominent crack going straight through it. However, the stability of the ice was not on the top of her concerns at the moment.

Bain was nowhere in sight, which was usually a bad thing since he had a bad habit of carrying sharp objects on his person, objects that had a tendency to be thrown at you from any direction. Her concern about Bain made her oblivious to the clap on her back and a couple of the guys were complimenting her on kicking some ass.

Her breath was coming out in pants, the moisture in her exhalation coming out like a foggy smoke. Spying a pair of concerned eyes, she reached out to their owner and pulled the girl who owned said eyes towards her.

She would have quirked an eyebrow at how plain the girl looked despite the electric pink hair that should have been screaming out for attention but instead settled for demanding, "Where is he? Where's Bain?"

Grayish green eyes looked back at her in surprise, as if caught off guard that she was being spoken to but when Charlie narrowed her eyes at the lack of an answer, the plain girl was quick to say, "I saw him fall through the ice…"

"He did?" she asked, looked back at the pond, spying out a part of the ice that didn't looked cracked as much as it looked more shattered. "When?"

"Who cares?" he heard a voice she identified as Stan Marsh's. "You think that creep would be worried about you if you fell through?"

Okay, that made a lot of sense, however, it didn't quell the sense of dread she was feeling balling up in her stomach. She looked back at plain girl for more information, the girl saying, "You were still crawling on the ice when he fell…and that was a while ago I think…"

How long had it taken her to get to shore? Why hadn't Bain come back up yet? Since no one had said yet that he had come up yet, and who knew how long it had been since he had fallen through, then that would mean he was still under…and it was only now of times that she couldn't recall how long a person could go without air…

"Lottery Ticket?" she heard Kenny McCormick ask and she looked up at the orange-clad blond who was looking at her in concern, his hood removed so that he was understood completely. Slowly his eyes narrowed and he said, "You're not gonna do what I think you're going to do, are you?"

It was as if those words were a catalyst and the next thing Charlie knew, she was back on the ice, moving unstably over it while removing her jacket. The ice cracked further with every step she took and she almost fell on her face a couple of times before she reached the spot where she thought she had last seen Bain.

Taking a deep breath, she took the plunge into the icy cold water, the nerves in her body screaming at her from the sudden absence of warmth. She kept her eyes open, trying to find where Bain was and began swimming around when she couldn't find him. Where the hell was he, she thought, her search becoming more and more frantic.

Finding back where she had entered the water, she surfaced only to fill her lungs up with fresh air before she was back under, this time swimming downwards, all the while cursing how this shitty pond wasn't as crystal clear as the South Park brochures claimed it was.

It was then she spotted a dark form a few yards below her and at closer inspection, she found it was Bain. She relief was short lived as she saw that he wasn't moving and practically just lying there on the muddy ground, his wet clothes weighting him down. She grabbed him by the lapels of his trenchcoat and began to pull up, kicking her legs furiously as she headed back to the surface.

It wasn't easy dragging the deadened weight of the boy and the cold was sapping her of her strength. Her lungs were starting to burn from the strain and her muscles were screaming at her to let go of the boy and save herself while there was still time.

Then she felt Bain's weight lighten and she sensed that there was someone else beside her, helping her. She renewed her kicking and before she knew it, she was breaching the surface, gasping out for air. She caught of glimpsed of there being some people crowded around the whole in the ice, reaching for her to help her out. Instead, she pulled up with the help of her unknown aide, bringing Bain out of the water and holding him up to the outstretched hands.

"Here!" she gasped out. "Take him!"

The hands were reluctant but did as she said, pulling an obviously unconscious but blue-tinted Bain out of the water. Then those hands were reaching for her and pulling her out, a hot body huddling her close to them and making their way back to shore.

"Christ, Charlotte," she heard a familiar, accented voice swear at her. "Wat ze fuck do you zink you wer doing?"

"Mole," she sighed against that muscular torso, her teeth chattering so hard that she almost swore that they would shatter. "How long?"

"Sheet, how ze fuck should I know?" her long time friend scowled, easily traversing the cracked pond. "I just got here an' saw ze crowd."

"What about B-B-Bain?" she asked, the cold finally starting to affect her speech.

"Don't know," Mole shrugged. "Why zo worried?"

"Ch-ch-christ!" she swore, struggling against the stronger boy.

Her fear was soon compounded as she heard someone yell out, "I don't think he's breathing!"

It was soon followed by someone yelling, "Who knows CPR?"

She looked up at Christophe, begging the Mole with her eyes to do something. Christopher gave her a look, as if asking "Are you fuckeeng kidding me?" but nonetheless passed over to someone else and made his way to Bain. "I do," he said wearily as he bent down and pressed his ear against Bain's chest. "Christ."

"Jeez, Charlie," she heard one Brandon Smith, a.k.a. Valentine, a.k.a. Pervert, a.k.a. "Don't you know no means no, asshole!" flirt who didn't know how to take a hint, say to her as some fabric was wrapped around her. "Have you lost your mind? I know a better place to do that than out here."

"Cr-cram it, p-p-p-pervert," she spat. "N-N-Not in the m-mood."

"But it would warm ya up fast!" Brandon whined.

Ignoring that, she instead asked, "A-A-Ambulance?"

"Already called," Brandon reported.

The shriek of a siren in the distance only confirmed what she had been told and she tensed her jaw, her eyes trained on Bain who had yet to do anything as Christophe continued to give him the kiss of life without success. She heard the crunch snow and sensed someone else had joined her side.

She glanced at whoever it was, taking in the soaked Kenny who was also watching the proceedings, his parka cast off and his hands tucked into his armpits, the wet wifebeater practically pasted to his torso.

"You're n-n-n-n-not g-g-going t-to d-d-die on us, are y-y-you?" she asked.

"Not yet," Kenny said shortly. "What the hell were you thinking, Lottery Ticket?"

Once again, she shrugged.

* * *

The heat of the ambulance was heavenly as she sat inside it, wrapping up in a warm blanket, Kenny in the seat beside her. In front of them, one of the medics was working on Bain, lightly slapping the boy on his cheek, trying to wake him up while continuously checking his pulse and giving him oxygen.

She could hear words like "weak heartbeat" and "hypothermia" from the man's mutterings, and that did nothing to assure her that Bain was going to be okay. She was really beginning to worry for the boy, even as the ambulance raced through town to the appropriately named Hell's Pass hospital.

She felt Kenny take her hand and squeeze it. "He'll make it," she heard him tell her. "He's too more of an asshole to die."

She didn't even nod.

* * *

It was a few hours later and she found herself being treated for hypothermia, "to be on the safe side" as a doctor said though she doubted being in Hell's Pass would be a safe place for that kind of thing.

However, she sat silently, going over what she had heard when Bain was taken into the emergency room. She had heard someone cry out "I'm not getting a heartbeat!" which was followed by "Get the defibulator!" and that was the last she heard as the doors were shut. She had always been one to be aware of her own mortality as well as others but for some reason, she had always held Bain up to a different standard.

He was suppose to be unkillable. If he could take a bullet in his neck, withstand a broken nose, and take a blow from Jack head on, then something like drowning shouldn't pose much of a threat to him. Hearing that his heart stopped as he was taken out of sight drenched her with ice cold reality.

Could it be that this was going to be the last time she would ever see him?

It was one thing if it was her who was in danger as she wasn't afraid of crossing over into the hereafter. She had a place reserved for her in Hell, after all, but whereas she had only committed fratricide in self-defense, Bain had stolen Jack's life away without any compassion, because he had been "annoying" him. But why should she be so concerned with Bain's welfare after all the shit he had put her through?

She, not for the first time, wondered how fucked up in the head she really was.

As she waited to hear more on Bain, her mother showed up and she was treated to a one minute scolding on how she shouldn't be making trips to the hospital so frequently. After that she comforted her, telling her she was proud that she had dived in after Bain.

All that pride meaning didly shit as it wouldn't tell her if Bain was going to survive or not.

Soon other kids who had been at the pond showed up but, surprise surprise, they weren't there for Bain but for Kenny and her. Kenny had already checked himself out, saying that he had a better chance for survival outside of this place but stuck around to give her emotional support. She ignored them, preferring to be engrossed in her own thoughts for the time being.

It was only after the other kids began to leave that she heard the first word on Bain. He was still alive but was comatose. There was no telling how long he would be out; it could be days, weeks, months, who knew?

"I want to see him," she had told her mother. That was all she said, not in the mood to get in a debate over it.

Her mother simply sighed and said she'd get her signed out while she checked in on her boyfriend, Charlie's response being a blush that made her resemble a tomato.

God, why'd her mom have to be saying things like that around here?

A few minutes later, she found herself entering into that plain hospital room, idly noting that it was the same one he had been put in when Christophe had shot him once upon a time, and staring down at the bed surrounded by various electronic equipment. She had found it a bit much to see IVs and a heart monitor that showed a steady beat, but seeing how the small form under the blankets and hot water bottles sent a stab of remorse into her heart.

Looking at all this, Bain looked so much smaller than he already did. She guessed he must emit some large outer presence or something because really, it looked like he was going to sink into that hospital bed and crushed under all that equipment, wires, and tubes.

Purposely adverting her gaze, she took the file that hung off the end of the bed and read it, hoping to find out just what was going on. According to what was written, the staff was treating for hypothermia, using a combination of active external rewarming (the blankets and hot water bottles) and active core rewarming techniques (the IVs that were apparently irrigating Bain with warmed fluids. She read further, paling slightly at the notes where it stated he had "died on the table" twice and that he was currently "braindead" though she had to read that through the mark that was crossing it out. Underneath was "coma" and "unlucky bastard" but by then she had read enough and was back to staring down at the unconscious boy.

How had it come to this? Just a few hours ago, they had been fighting at Stark's, both in the peak of perfect health, and now this. Whether she wanted to admit this or not, she was scared. It was stupid; she should be happy that Bain was like this, in a position where he couldn't hurt anybody anymore. Yet she was urging him to wake up, to look at her with those discerning eyes of his and call her a cunt or whore or something!

God she was fucked up.

Her time alone was soon interrupted as the door to Bain's room slammed open and an incredibly beautiful woman barreled in, shrieking and practically throwing herself on top of Bain. She couldn't get a good look but from what she could see, the woman had dark hair that was styled in the "happy homemaker" look with just the lightest touches of makeup that seemed to bastardize it into a more sexual tone. She was thin based on what could be seen from the strapless dress she wore yet she didn't have that anorexic look and her pale skin was a beauty in and of itself.

She couldn't help but feel a bit jealous; did that asshole have a girlfriend she didn't know about? Sure, as unlikely as that sounded, she still felt a bit possessive over the unconscious boy.

A large hand settled onto her shoulder and she found she was being led towards the door. She dug her feet down and tried to glare up at the large, mousy looking man with spectacles yet was it just her or was she having a hard time focusing on him? It was as if he wasn't really there yet she could see and feel him and—

"Could you come another time? My wife and I would like some private time with our son."

The next thing she knew, the door was closing behind her and she was staring straight ahead, wondering how the hell she had gotten out into the hallway. Who the hell was that man and how the hell had he not only snuck up on her but led her out of the room? She had half a mind to storm back in there and demand who the hell did he think he was when the man's (supposedly) words rang in her head.

_My wife and I would like some private time with our son._

…were those Bain's parents? Wow. Just…wow…

"Are you finished up?" she heard her mother ask from beside her and she jumped. Just how many people were going to sneak up on her today, huh? "Ready to go home?"

She was going to reply that no, she didn't want to go home, just stay up here for a while longer but finally the events of the day were catching up with her. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

Sunday trickled by and before she knew it, it was Monday once again and unfortunately, it was a school day. Charlie really didn't feel like getting out of bed that morning but an impromptu wakeup call from Tammy had the young girl sitting on top of her, refusing to get off until she was sure that Charlie was up and getting ready.

Really, did she have to say it again? She really wasn't looking forward to today.

But once again, she was in front of South Park High in all its glory and she had a feeling that today was not going to be a good one.

As soon as she entered the main entrance, it seemed like fate was going to be a bitch to her as she found herself assaulted by a flurry of colors and a monochrome.

The flurry of colors which was on her left was the "marvey" Rhiannon Edwards, the first girl she ever encountered on her return to South Park. From the hot pink long sleeve and an All Time Low tank top covering her girlish torso to the yellow plaid miniskirt and mismatched, striped boots, an entire display's worth of bracelets and necklaces, and let's not forget that that white and pink polka dot boy in her man of hair, and you had an epileptic's nightmare on your hands.

Not that Rhiannon cared about what epileptics thought; she was a bit flamboyant in that way. In a way, Charlie kinda admired that free-spiritedness even though she personally would go that far in her wardrobe.

The monochrome wasn't really a monochrome but when put in respective to Rhiannon, you could see where Charlie was coming from. Black jeans, grey high heels, and a white and grey striped hoodie and you had the opposite of Skittles in Ryleigh Smith. Despite her exterior, Charlie knew Ryleigh to be straightforward and quirky, another fellow tomboy who she could sometimes relate to.

Not completely mind you as Charlie was in a whole league of her own in that regard as she knew a wealth of skills that your regular, average Joe tomboy didn't. How else could one survive the attentions of an obsessed psychopath?

"Hey, girl, you doin' all right?" Ryleigh was the first to speak, sounding chipper as a morning person would.

"Yeah, heard all about it," Rhiannon chipped in. "What made you do it? Go in after him, I mean."

Charlie blinked at the two, shaking her head in an attempt to gather her thoughts. "It's nothing I couldn't handle," she said gruffly, trying to push her way between the two girls. She felt two different arms place themselves on her shoulders and she knew she wasn't about to get away anytime soon.

"C'mon Charlie, we're just worried," Rhiannon said. "What happened? Why were you fighting on the ice, especially since spring is near? Everyone knows that the ice is thin when spring is coming."

Well, thanks a lot, she could have used that information, oh, she didn't know…how about Saturday?

"Yeah, I mean, did he make fun of your family again?" Ryleigh picked up. "He kinda deserved falling in and all."

"You do know he almost died, right?" Charlie asked dryly, trying to shrug the arms off unsuccessfully. "Bain's in a coma right now and they don't know if he's going to be waking up anytime soon."

"And what, we only have till May when school ends?" Ryleigh asked. "It's the middle of March! Think he'll miss it and have to stay behind?"

"Why are you asking me that?" Charlie frowned. "I'm no brain doctor. Besides," she added, turning to Rhiannon, "didn't Christophe tell you about it?"

Rhiannon huffed and removed her arm from Charlie, preferring to cross her arms over her chest. "He just got back from being M.I.A." she grumbled. "He just ups and vanishes without a word for one of his 'missions' and he doesn't…even leave a note or something," she concluded with a sigh. "Plus, he wasn't really talkative this weekend."

"So you don't know about him giving Bain CPR?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Wait, he what?" Rhiannon gasped, eyes widening.

"I take that as a 'no,'" Charlie commented wryly.

Sensing a bit of gossip, Ryleigh leaned in closer. "Oh? Something up with the Sex God, honey? Care to share?"

"Only thing I'm going to share is my foot up his ass," Rhiannon muttered. "He knows Bain doesn't like me and has tried to kill me! Why'd the heck he try to save him?"

Charlie conveniently omitted that it was her who told him to go try it on Bain in the first place. No need to get someone pissed off at her first thing in the morning now…

Or perhaps that should be getting someone else pissed off at her; the usual suspect was absent and frankly, she had gotten used to her spats with him. Damn, she was almost like a fish out of water here but if there was something she was good at, it was adapting.

"Well…" Ryleigh trailed off slyly, "do you think he might be using you again? I mean, it would have been the first time your boyfriend used you to get with someone else…"

"I doubt Christophe would be gay," Charlie interrupted. "Not that there isn't anything wrong with it but even if he was, I would think he'd have better tastes."

"Hello, I'm standing right here," Rhiannon growled before stomping off. Hmm, she did have a point; you don't gossip about a person's boyfriend if the girlfriend is right next to you. Well, these two did lack tact so…

Successfully shrugging off Ryleigh's arm, Charlie put some space between them before saying, "Nice chatting with you but I gotta run."

"But—" Ryleight tried to say but Charlie was out of there like a bat out of hell. She really wasn't feeling sociable despite the previous conversation and she was hoping that she could avoid future ones but running away from them before they could get started.

When the hell was Bain going to wake up?

* * *

_Season change, time passes by_

_As the weeks become the months become the years…_

This was really starting to get pathetic.

Every day after school, she would make her way up to the hospital and watch over Bain like a lost puppy. It was wretched, pitiable, any other synonym for pathetic that you could think of but it didn't excuse that fact that she did it anyway.

There wasn't really much to do other than stare at him. When she had first come in on Monday, she had been surprised to see that Bain had gained a full beard with a moustache, sideburns and everything. The beard was unkempt and bits of gum stuck the hairs together and she frowned in disgust at that. Then the nurse came in and pulled the beard off with ease, moustache, sideburns and all, revealing it to be a face warmer, the nurse saying she was going to go and get a cleaner one.

Freaky hospital staff…

Most of the medical equipment was gone, the heart monitor and IV still there but other than that, he just looked like a regular old coma patient. As was the cliché, she was getting a good look at the boy who was always arrogant and condescending appearing as a sinless angel who had fallen from the heavens. No emotions were marring that face; really, it was a transformation she saw whenever those eyes of his fell on her.

She was starting to get the feeling that he was staying like this just to get to her. It would be something the bastard would do and damn it, whatever it was, it was working!

She was the only one here, she could beat his chest, draw all over his face with a permanent marker, put him in any kind of humiliating position she could think of and no one would be the wiser. Don't think she hadn't noticed that nobody else from school came. She knew for a fact after the first couple of days, his parents had stopped showing up so she literally was the only person visiting.

It would be things like this that made her think that maybe the way he acted was more of a defense mechanism. What would he have been like had he been a normal everyday person? Not neglected all the time, having some friends, doing what normal people did all the time.

Goes to show that you really didn't know people sometimes…

Sighing, she took a seat, kicking her legs like a little kid would in boredom. She was ignoring her school work for Bain, there was no doubt. Already she had gotten low scores on her most recent tests if those were to judge by anything. She wanted him to wake up already so that they could go back to business as usual, fight first thing in the morning, and just basically hate on one another while people called them husband and wife behind their backs.

Yeah, she had been getting a little attention what with people asking her how she was doing without the old ball and chain. At first she'd just punch them in the face and flip them the bird but right now, it was getting on the verge of torment with how many times people asked that.

Before you'd know it, she'd be sharpening some knives of her own and calling one of them Winslette or something.

She perked up when she heard a beep and she stared at the heart monitor. Was it her imagination or was the line that was supposed to represent his brain activity doing something? When nothing further occurred, she shrugged and decided that it must have been her imagination.

There was another beep and when she looked up this time, she was the lines on the heart monitor flocculating more rapidly. The only one she could really read was the top line, the one for his heart and she could tell that his heart rate was speeding up. Could…could it be…?

The next couple moments for her were tense as she shifted her attention from the monitor to Bain and back, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

And then it did with Bain's eyes snapping open and staring straight up at the ceilings. Charlie jerked, completely expecting something but taken off guard nevertheless. Eyelids shut over the heterochromatic eyes, slowly opening again then closing. She watched in fascination, her body tensed as she waited for something to happen.

That something was not forthcoming.

Steeling her resolve, she decided to make the first more and said, "It's about time you woke up."

Bain's eyes snapped over to her but instead of the usual steel that she associated with them, she instead saw fear and incomprehension. Okay, something was wrong here but even her mind couldn't quite grasp at what it was.

"What's with the look?" she demanded, not willing to show any weakness. "Don't tell me you don't recognize me, asshole."

The eyes blinked but there was still something missing in them. What could it be…

Then Bain blew her away with the first words he spoke, his eyes shimmering.

"Who are you?"

* * *

Sunny Dianna Grain: **CherrySlim**

Brandon Smith: **O.o-Fox-fire-o.O**

Rhiannon Edwards: **xXBeyondBirthdayXx**

Ryleigh Jade Smith: **JellieBabie**


	3. Meet an Amnesiac Expert

Author's Note: Now, there's an OC in here that ought to be really offensive to anyone with any sensibilities. That said, I apologize right now for any uneasiness you might feel. Also, I want to give a thank you to ShadowMajin for helping me give him a name. OC submissions are now closed. I believe I have enough now to work with as well as the canon South Park characters who will be gradually taking over the story. If I haven't used your OC yet, do not worry, there's a time and place for these things and I am a firm believer of roles, that is a character has to have some kind of position in a story that they need to fulfill. Only I know what these roles will be and if I haven't given your character a role, well, they will be given one. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, adult themes

Meet an Amnesiac Expert

Light stabbed into the boy's eye yet he willfully kept it open, just as he had been told. With a click, the light was gone and he was blinking his watery eye as a much older man muttered to himself "Pupil dilation normal."

He didn't recognize this man, he wasn't one of those doctors who kept poking at him and stabbing him with needles. He didn't know if getting used to those tiny, hollow tubes being jabbed under his skin was a good thing but there was a lot he didn't know so he kept his mouth shut and just went with it.

"Well then, let's get on down to it," the man sat as he took a seat in front of him. "Everything seems fine with you but I'd like to get into your head for a bit."

He shrugged, not knowing what to say. What could he say?

"So tell me, what's the first thing you can remember?" the man asked pleasantly. "Take your time, there's no need to rush."

He blinked then began to think real hard, just as he had been told. What was the first thing he could remember? Not much but if he had to say, it would have to be that girl he saw. He didn't know why he knew it was a girl and he didn't know why he was a he; just something in his head told him that so he just went with it.

"Um…" he mumbled. "Uh…I guess it would be waking up?"

"Yes and what did you do when you woke up?" the man asked.

"I looked around and saw a girl…" he continued hesitantly. "Um…she was saying something, I think."

"Alright and can you remember anything that might have happened before that?"

He frowned and searched through his brain. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time that he was starting to have problems what had happened first. He was sure that the first thing he remembered was waking up and seeing that girl but already the memory was losing its vividness.

But what was constant was that there was this big blank; every time he thought about it, he could just see blackness where nothing appeared and yet he knew that something was there. No matter how many times he tried to grasp what was there, he always came back with nothing, as if there really was nothing there. It was frustrating.

His shoulders slumped and he said, "No…"

The man nodded at him, a sad smile on his face. "There's nothing to be ashamed about," the man said.

He nodded, still uncertain.

"Well, I still need to run a couple more tests and I do believe that will be all for today," the man announced. "If you would stay here for a moment, I'll be right back. It won't take long."

He nodded again as the man gave him a winning smile and left, not deigning to move a muscle. Why would he? He was in a place he didn't know, surrounded by people he didn't recognize…

…and he still wasn't sure that his name was really his name. Bain Cynis? Was that his name? Of all the things he doubted, that was the one he doubted most.

How could he be someone when he didn't even know who they were?

* * *

His name was Raizen. Dr. Raizen, Ph.D., M.D., psychiatrist extraordinaire. Top of his class, graduate of Stanford University and author of the popular self help book "_Why Your Oedipus Complex is Okay!_" Only sold twenty copies but it was a success in his book.

Of course, the one thing he couldn't figure out was how he wind up in South Park, Colorado, redneck capital of the world?

Well, it beat minimum wage.

Then again, he didn't make much despite his degrees (mainly because of some malpractice suits and ethics violations but we can't all be perfect) and that was why he had to set up shop in Hell's Pass hospital, listening to the soundtrack of painful cries unstunted by anesthesia and death in-between patients.

His latest patient, one Bain Cynis, was providing him with some much needed income but he had already written off the teen as a lost cause. Amnesiac, no memories, doomed to be in a dead-end job, and that was all there was to it. The only thing that made him stick it out as far as he had was the chance to see Mrs. Cynis and try his luck with her rumored nymphophilia. No luck thus far but he had to keep trying, for the sake of science damn it!

And what couldn't she see in him? He was ruggedly handsome, a perfect specimen of an Anglo Saxon with his graying brown hair and twinkling blue eyes and incredible mental faculties. He was a studmuffin damn it!

He smiled warmly at the Cynis, beaming at the missus while cursing the husband to the lowest pit of Hell for bagging this incredible specimen before he did.

"Mrs. Cynis," he addressed, "I'm glad you could come on such short notice."

"We've had this appointment scheduled for two weeks," James Cynis deadpanned.

Whoa, when did he get here?

"Yes," Dr. Raizen said slowly.

"Dr. Raizen, is there anything you can do?" Mrs. Cynis spoke up, looking so pitiful that Raizen wanted nothing better than to drag her onto his desk and do her while imagining her to be a hotter version of his mother.

But enough of his fabulous fantasies, business now, pleasure later.

"Well, Mrs. Cynis…and spouse, your son, Bain, is diagnosed with what we call amnesia, a condition where memory loss is experienced. Through some thorough tests, I've been able to determine that your son is suffering from what we psychologists call a dissociative fugue. You might recognize it from the movies where someone forgets their past and has to make up a new identity. Well, it's the same thing here."

"Is it permanent?" Mrs. Cynis sniffed.

"In some cases, yes, and others no. You see, this type of amnesia is actually pretty rare," Raizen explained. "Most cases either involve retrograde amnesia where you can't recall the events that led up to the amnesia and anterograde amnesia where you have all the memories of your past but you can't create new memories, kinda like in that move Fifty-First Dates."

"But you're saying that he will remember?" Mrs. Cynis pressed.

"Will is kind of a…iffy term," he said hesitantly. "But look at it this way! You can raise him like you just gave birth to him! Just, without all the birth and labor and stretch marks, you know?"

"Ahem!" James Cynis coughed, reminding the doctor that he wasn't here alone with this incredibly hot MILF…a MILF that he wished was his mother…in black lacy lingerie…

"Dr. Raizen," James Cynis coughed again.

Jesus Christ! Would that guy stop leaving and stick around for one Goddamn moment?

"Glad you could join us," he said mildly to the man who was now frowning at him. "I was just discussing with your wife about the status of your son."

"I know. I heard it all."

Raizen blinked. Okay, that was creepy. Why was he having the sensation that he was forgetting something?

"Are you telling us that we should just pretend that we're raising a new child instead of the old one?" Mr. Cynis questioned, eyeing him skeptically.

"Not necessarily," Raizen was quick to say. "In the fugue state, a person has no memories of the past but their body might recall. There's been cases where some have been able to do complex tasks like using an accounting calculator with ease where a normal person without training wouldn't. The body remembers but the mind doesn't."

"So, is there some kind of pill he could take?" Mrs. Cynis, the sexy minx, asked.

"Um, no, no there isn't," Raizen blinked.

"But there has to be!" Mrs. Cynis protested. "There has to be some kind of medication that he can take! I don't want him to fall behind any of his friends in school!"

"Mrs. Cynis, there is no silver bullet for amnesia. It's something that either clears up on its own or stays indefinitely," Raizen shrugged. Damn he was starting to get a little impatient here. If there was medication for amnesia, he would have already prescribed it so he could go back to fascinating about Mom. "Since your son is at a young age, there's still the possibility of getting him some schooling before sending him out into the world but you need to hurry on that one. If you want, I can schedule some sort of aptitude test with the school and depending on his score, it will determine where he's placed."

"Thank you," Mr. Cynis spoke up, reappearing once more. Goddamn it, where the hell was he going? "If you would please do so…"

"I'll take care of it right away," he said, waving the matter aside. "Though, if you have any questions…"

"Just…just fix my son," Mrs. Cynis sniffed.

"Please," he cut in, "call me Johnny. All my friends do."

"Johnny Raizen?" Mrs. Cynis said.

"Yep," he smirked. "And what might I call you, Mrs. Cynis?"

"Oh, call me Sybil," she spoke airily, fluttering her eyelids.

"Why don't we go visit Bain," Mr. Cynis interrupted, hooking his arm with his wife's.

"I'll call later to set up another session," Johnny Raizen called after them. "Damn, what a MILF," he muttered to himself dreamily.

* * *

Bain stared at the building before him blankly. According to the people who claimed to be his "parents," this was home. Sadly, nothing about it seemed familiar about it so in order not to try and attract attention to himself, he just stared ahead and hoped that no one would ask him any questions.

"Bain, sweetie," his "mother" cooed to him. "Do you remember something?"

He swallowed and looked up at her before shaken his head no. He winced slightly at the falling look of disappointment on her face which was wiped cleaned immediately as she said, "Well why don't you come inside first, sweetie? Maybe you'll have better luck there?"

He nodded, too shy to use his voice and looked away from her. He took in his surroundings, identifying the snow on the ground and the sidewalks that were wet from melted snow as well as the surrounding houses. Huh, they all kind of looked identical, only differing in their colors. Best he memorize the color of this one so he would know that it was "home."

He paused and looked back, spying the girl who had been at his side the day he had woken up. He stared back her, wondering what she was doing there. Did she want to say something to him or something? He was so confused by all this talking with other people business.

"Bain? Sweetie! Come on in and get out of the cold!" he heard his mother call after him and he looked back at his home, taking the time to look back at the girl one last time before going inside.

If there was something she wanted from him, then she knew that he would be in this place, right?

The inside of the house was different from the hospital. The colors were different, more warm and comfortable, he supposed. His eyes trailed over to where a set of stairs rested and his curiosity egged him on to climb up them and see what was upstairs. Not knowing anything else better to do, he obeyed.

At the top of the stairs, he found himself in a carpeted hallway, one that was wide and spacious, sort of resembling the hospital yet not at the same time. Hearing a noise behind him, he turned his head to see the large man that was his "father" right behind him, the man watching him but seeming to expect anything out of him.

He was so quiet, almost as if he wasn't there…

Slowly, he took a step further down the hallway, looking at all the shut doors curiously but not venturing to open any of them. It would be rude if he did and he remembered the last time he had opened a closed door; it had been back at the hospital and the person inside yelled at him and scared him. What if the same thing happened here?

As he passed a particular door, the man behind him stopped and opened it. He looked at the man then at the open doorway, wondering what was going on when the man did nothing to go inside.

The man cleared his throat and said, "This was…is your room Bain. Would you like to…?"

He stared at the man and shrugged, figuring why not and went in. Okay, it was almost like he was back at the hospital except this room was much more cheerless. Yes, it had that lived in look, as if the person using it had only stepped out for a moment and was intending to return but there just wasn't much in here to begin with.

He identified the bed and what he assumed was a desk which was littered with papers of some kind and in the back he could see a shelf of some kind. Walking over to the shelf, he began to look at what he figured were books, pulling some out and looking at the covers that typically had people or pictures of people on them. The titles made no sense to him but there was one that caught his eye.

The design looked like some kind of dark farmland or something but over it were a pair of eyes…and that was as far it went. Still, there was something about the eyes that spoke to him but he just couldn't understand it.

Taking the book, he took a seat on the bed and opened it up. He'd deal with his parents later, he decided. Right now, he just wanted to be alone.

* * *

As she woke up that following morning, Charlie pondered over what she had observed over the past few days.

The short of it was that Bain didn't remember shit and was acting like a completely different person, so much so that she would have thought it suspect had it been any other situation. When he had stared at her yesterday, she hadn't felt the malice that usually accompanied such a look from him. She hadn't known what to do at that point and had stayed out there while Bain went inside.

So here she was, practically stress free since there was no one around trying to maim or kill her. To be perfectly honest, she was feeling a little lost; it had been so long since there was a time when no one had something out for her. It felt as if there was something missing yet she couldn't put her finger on just what it was.

Pushing the covers off her, she trudged out of bed and readied herself for school. As she left her room, she found Tammy standing in her way, looking up at her as if she wanted to ask something. This was a bit strange since the younger girl ought to have been downstairs eating breakfast right now.

The mystery, though, was soon solved when Tammy asked, "Have you seen the nice boy?"

Nice boy? Why was Tammy asking her about a nice boy—oh, wait, she was probably talking about Bain. It had been a bit weird that her little sister of all people had taken a bit of a liking to the guy and over the past week and a half, she had been asking nonstop questions about him. It seemed like she was overlooking that little fight and was focusing more on how Bain had helped her with her skates.

Damn it, even when he was comatose or didn't remember shit, Bain still was fucking with her life.

She nodded warily and received a bright smile. "Is he all right? Can I see him? Do you think I should give him one of my toys?" and other questions were shot at her rapid fire that Charlie was in a stupor, blinking dumbly at the girl.

Jesus titty-fucking Christ…

"Yes, maybe later, I don't know, no I don't have his phone number," she sighed in answer, anticipating a long day ahead of her.

* * *

"Yo, Lottery Ticket!" Kenny greeted her as she arrived at the school. Well, wasn't he a bright ray of sunshine? Getting close to her, the poor boy caught on to the small cloud that was hovering over her and he asked, "Pining still?"

"Fuck off," she grumbled, not even deigning to punch him in the shoulder for such a reference.

"I take it as a big fucking yes," Kenny jested as he stuck to her side like a parasite. "You know what I say? Rip off his clothes, then rip off yours and screw each others' brains out. You'll see the light then, I swear."

"First of all, that's wrong on so many levels," Charlie groaned. "Second, he doesn't remember shit anymore, remember?"

"Pun intended?"

Now she mustered up the energy to slug him on the shoulder, making his wince and rub his offended limb. "He has fucking amnesia, he doesn't remember me at all. Probably doesn't remember what sex is either."

"Oh, so you're considering it?" Kenny grinned.

"Don't make me snap your neck."

"Aw, you'd miss me," Kenny drawled. "Besides, if you're not planning on making the moves on your boyfriend, then would you mind if I put the moves on you?"

"Blond cheerleaders are not my type," she drawled back at him.

"Your loss," he shrugged, turning his head to look at something. Following his gaze, Charlie was not surprised to see a girl there and Kenny's eyes trained on the girl's ass. "Excuse me for a moment, I need to check something out," he said distractedly and abandoned her.

Really, she shouldn't be surprised by this.

Also, she shouldn't be surprised that the moment she stepped into the building, she was accosted by a group of people wanting to hear more of the saga going on between her and Bain. Used to be no one gave a crap but ever since Bain almost died and went into the hospital, the fangirls were starting to come out of the woodwork.

You know, those people who like happy endings and love conquering all. She'd heard there was a betting pool set up on who would crack first, her or Bain, and guess what other name she heard that was associated with it?

If you thought Cartman, close but no cigar. No, it was Bebe Stevens, queen of all school gossip. Who would've thought that she was a romantic, eh?

Today, the blond captain of the cheerleading squad and current focus of conquest from Kenny McCormick was flanked today by one Kimberly Smith, or as everybody called her Kim, and one Kyra McCloud.

Kim was a fucking model, even Charlie had to admit, with her tall and slender body size that was complemented with natural strawberry blond and the warmest of hazel eyes you ever saw. Now, Charlie wasn't close to this girl but she had heard from various sources that Kim while smart, fun-loving, and generous could also be a grade-A bitch with a temper to match Kyle Broflovski's.

Now Kyra stuck out from this latest group as she was a brunette for one, and two she was slightly shyer than the other two, though you wouldn't be able to tell just by watching and listening to her. Charlie recognized the "once bitten, twice shy" behavior that Kyra showed, behavior that was usually masked by glowing confidence and being an all-in-all goody two-shoes while distracting from all that with mad gaming skillz.

As for Bebe, she was dressed pretty conservatively today with her long-sleeved red sweater and tight black jeans, blonde hair curled into a near frizz that was fashionable and bizarre at the same time.

With three beauties like these blocking her way, any girl would be hard pressed not to have their self-esteem drop several notches but Charlie wasn't just any girl. She had a psychotic brother and a maniacal rival trying to kill her at several point in her life. Looking good was certainly not at the top of her list of priorities.

"Hey!" Bebe greeted as she fell into step beside Charlie. "How's it going, girl?"

Having already guessed that this was going to be a long day, Charlie merely growled.

"Tough morning?" Kyra asked sympathetically, taking the place opposite of Bebe and placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Period?" Kim hazarded. "I have tampons for that if you need it."

Charlie threw a glare at Kim who held her hands up in mock surrender.

"Girls, I am not in the mood today," she grounded out, clenching her jaw noticeably.

"Is it because your boyfriend left the hospital yesterday?" Bebe pondered aloud. "Shouldn't you be happy or something?"

"It's been almost two weeks," Kyra argued in defense of Charlie. "It couldn't have been easy on her to see him there even though…" she trailed off as if realizing she was heading into forbidden territory.

Charlie, still not in the mood, pressed her on it. "Even though what?"

"Erm…nothing," Kyra mumbled, removing her hand from Charlie's shoulder and hiding it behind her back nervously. "Just, I think it's good that everything's working out," she said with cheer though if you paid close attention, that cheer wasn't as authentic as it sounded. Hmm, maybe she was just trying to hide her insecurity and protect herself from whatever the more devil-may-care Charlie thought.

"Yeah!" Bebe picked up, trying to help with the friendly deception. "Why don't you go visit him after school? See how he's doing, you know?"

"Like I've been doing every day?" she answered dryly.

Then Kim spoke up, "Well, I think he deserved it. I mean, who here wasn't happy to see him fall under, huh?"

"Kim!" Kyra protested, shrinking in on herself slightly.

"He's a douchebag!" Kim argued. He's always been and always will be! Do you know what he did to me when I moved here? I remember, I thought he was cute and tried to be friends with him! And he poured glue in my hair and down my shirt and called me a cunt! But that's not all! He made my first day a living hell, tripping me at lunch, hitting me with rocks hard enough to bruise, and he even fingerpainted a picture of him strangling me during art! And he didn't get in trouble for it either! Any of it! I go home, tell my mom about it but she doesn't believe me, and I'm afraid for my life but the next day he completely ignores me! As if I didn't exist! I spend the whole day afraid he's going to do something but he doesn't and why I ask him, he calls me a piece of shit that's beneath him and threatens to cut my throat if I don't leave him alone!"

Huh, Charlie hadn't heard that story before. Then again, there was a lot about Bain she didn't know, like what he was before she came back. She'd been too busy with chemo to be at school much when she was younger, before Jack lost his marbles and all. Still, Bain was playing mind games back then?

"You…you have a point," Bebe acknowledged. "I mean, when we were twelve, he kidnapped me and shaved all the hair on my head off, even my eyebrows! I had to pencil my eyebrows in and wear a wig for months!"

"What about you Kyra?" Kim asked.

Kyra shrugged, "I haven't had the chance to interact with him much. I think he just ignored me."

"Lucky," Kim sighed.

"As much as I enjoy the war stories," Charlie cut in, "I'm going to the library. Peace out."

She took advantage of the stupor she left the trio in and rushed off. It was true that she wanted in into the library but that was because she was hoping there was a Sherlock Holmes book she had missed. However, it also served as a convenient excuse to get away.

She really didn't like gossip.

Kyra watched as Charlie hurried away and she felt as if she had done something wrong. She'd only wanted to help but maybe she should have gone solo this time around. Bebe and Kim, while natural born leaders, sometimes had trouble reading the atmosphere.

Should she had talked about something else, like that gamin tournament in Denver that was going to happen this weekend?

"What do you think about that?" Kim asked airily.

Instead of answering, Bebe looked at Kim and asked, "Did you really have a crush on Bain?"

Kim blushed and looked away. "It was before I met Kyle! You know I hate that asshole!"

"Who doesn't?" Bebe agreed. "To be honest, I was hoping he wouldn't make it. Does that make me a bad person?"

"I wouldn't wish such things on anybody," Kyra murmured.

"You're such a goody two-shoes," Kim said affectionately, patting Kyra on the shoulder. "You need to lighten up some, girl."

"Hey, why not a shopping trip after school?" Bebe suggested. "I'll get Wendy and the others to come too."

"Yeah, that's sounds like a great idea!" Kim agreed. "There's been these shirts I've been eyeing for such a long time!"

Kyra began to drown it all out, still concerned about Charlie. Really, it had not been a good idea to bring up Bain Cynis of all people and to Charlie! What if Charlie didn't want to talk to her anymore? What if she couldn't fix everything? Ooh, this was making her so anxious!

"C'mon girls," Bebe's voice intruded on her musings. "Let's go get the troops!"

"Right on!" Kim cheered behind her and Kyra found herself having to catch up with the two, and internal conflict nearly forgotten.

Nearly.

* * *

Kimberly Smith: **Kyle Broflovski's Wife**

Kyra McCloud: **-Beyond The Horizon-**


	4. Assessment

Author's Note: Reoccurring OCs this time around but no one seemed to fit what I needed for this chapter. Not that I'm apologizing or anything. However there is one more OC of my own creation as well and I bet you'll figure out who he is in all due time. Plus, need I remind you this is a South Park fanfic and what would it be without the actual canon characters? It'd be an original story, that's what. Anyway, next chapter ought to really get into the plot of this story so bare with me for a little longer. Enojy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, adult themes

Assessment

It seemed like the heater in this part of the school was broken.

Sunny Grain wrapped her dark green coat closer to her body, trying to repress a shiver that got out anyway. She wished she had brought a scarf and a hat with her today; it was a shame that the school was too cheap to just move them to a different part of the building or the cafeteria where it was warmer. Her hair was doing shit to keep some heat against her scalp and electric pink hair wasn't very productive to retaining said heat.

She hoped she didn't get brain freeze. In this town, it would be literal…though how would Kenny look if that happened to him?

She heard the screech of a chair being dragged across the tiled floor and she took a moment to forget her freezing misery to see who had come into the classroom.

"Cheap ass school," Kyle Broflovski swore, tightening the collar of his jacket.

"It's South Park," his best friend Stan answered dully. "What'd you expect?"

"Is competence too much to ask for?" Kyle asked back.

Sunny began to tone out the conversation for two reasons. One was because those were close to her thoughts and she didn't want to think too much about how cold it was and second, the two boys weren't going to invite her in to the conversation anyway.

It wasn't because they had anything against her; it was more like how mild and quiet she was. Add to the fact that she had only moved here about two months previous, making her the new kid, and you had the perfect combination for being left alone. Her first day had been perhaps the most chaotic as all the girls were coming up to her either telling her how cool her hair looked or asking what she had been smoking to dye it like that.

Instead of gushing to the first group or quipping back at the second, she had been calm, collected, and spoke as much as her natural shyness would allow. More than once that day she had seen looks of disappointment, as if they had been expecting something else.

The confusion over those looks was soon lifted once she got a good look at Rhiannon Edwards, who had complemented her on her hair and then forgotten that she had even existed. With a do like that, it was easy to see why she was being singled out that day.

Other than the comments from a couple boys about her grayish green eyes, she was left to her own devises. In fact only two major things had occurred that violated the dullness of her time in the town: the incident a couple of weeks ago at Stark's Pond and the invasion of mutant snowman that wanted to harness the nearby power plant for some scheme to take over the world. The heat of the plant itself melted the snowman before they could succeed in their dastardly plans.

The only reason she pointed out the mutant snowmen was because they used her as a hostage of all people. It was fun, actually, since once you got past the snowmen's frosty exterior, no pun intended, they were pretty nice and warm.

She sure did miss Bobo the Snowman, second cousin twice removed from Frosty…

"Well hey Sunny Dee!" the light tenor of Butters Stotch interrupted her musings and she frowned up at him. "Oh! S-sorry about that Sunny! Kinda forgot you don't like that name."

"It's fine," she sighed. "Forget about it."

Yeah, one last thing, people who noticed her enjoyed calling her Sunny Dee, after those Sunny Delight commercials. She hated that name with a passion…

"Gee, I'm still sore about it," Butters said as he took his seat next to her. "It wasn't very nice of me, you know?"

"No really Butters, forget about it and the name while you're at it," she groaned.

Sensing that a change of topic was necessary, he said, "Wow, it's really cold in here. I wonder if the heater is out again?"

"Butters, can you shut up about the heater?" Kyle snapped. "Talking about it is not going to turn it back on you know!"

"Well, sorry about that fellas but I was just making small talk with Sunny here," Butters said apologetically.

"Sunny? Oh, Sunny Dee!" Stan exclaimed. "Didn't see you there. Have you unleashed the power of the sun yet?"

…she really hated her name.

* * *

Brandon smiled warmly at a small photograph he held in his hand, rubbing a thumb against it fondly before quickly hiding it as someone came too close to him for comfort.

He had a rep to protect man, and it wouldn't do for anyone to find out that he was happily hooked up and with who. His significant other was a bit shy and enjoyed their privacy, thank you very cockshit much!

…those last words were a direct quote by the way.

He straightened up his too big for him white coat and plastered a large grin on his caramel hued face, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. He combed his hand through his red hair and judged himself ready to face his intruder.

"Daywalker! Keep your soulless hands away from me!"

Oh, it was just Cartman. Still, he looked good and that was what mattered. Now to take care of something else…

He lifted up a white van-covered foot and slammed it into the fat tub of lard that practically towered over him and who everyone despised. Blinking innocently, he pulled his foot back and said, "Oh, sorry about that! Didn't see you there!"

"I swear, I'm going to kill you," Cartman heaved, "I swear to God."

"I don't think so, you're not hot enough for my tastes," he replied smoothly, catching a glimpse of a couple girls walking by and flashing them a stunning smile. Turning his attention away from the swooning girls, he said, "You don't really look good. Maybe you should go to the nurse's office."

"Fuck you, daywalking fag," Cartman spat, glaring at him. "You didn't have to kick me that fucking hard! Wait, why did you kick me anyway, dick?"

"Sorry, just conditioned to kick any asshole in a two foot radius from me," Brandon shrugged as he walked away from the fat boy. "I swear it has to be a reflex."

Wait for it…

"Wow! He was so cool!" he heard one of the girls from earlier whisper to their friend.

"I know! Did you see him hit Cartman?"

"Ey! What are you bitches looking at?" he heard Cartman snarl at the two.

Man he was good. Turning down a hallway and out of Cartman's sight, he heard a shrill bell ring, signaling that class was going to begin soon. He still had a few minutes to go but he happened to be the very definition of suave and that required him to enter the classroom at the last second.

He paused as he spied out a boy smaller than him who was briskly walking near him, his blond hair covered with a hat. That hat had to go, Brandon decided and he easily swiped it off the boy's fair head.

"Hey Pip," he greeted casually. "What have I told you about wearing this piece of crap?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there!" Pip chirped back him, beaming a small smile. "Would you be kind enough to give me back my hat, good sir?"

"I don't know," Brandon mused, spinning the hat on one finger casually. "I think I should burn this thing. Really takes away from your cuteness. Still…"

"Ex-excuse me?" Pip stuttered, blushing slightly.

Smirking, Brandon crammed the hat down on the British boy's head and said, "You do look adorable with it. I don't know whether to keep it or let you have it."

"R-r-right," Pip squeaked.

A thought occurring to him, he said, "Oh, I'd go another away if I were you. Cartman's back there and I know you don't get along with him."

"My, thank you for the heads up!" Pip replied.

"No prob," he quipped, crossing his arms over his chest in a cool manner. Yeah, he still had it.

Looking away from Pip and towards the end of the hallway, he froze as he saw the most fucking beautiful woman he had ever seen. Damn those curves…those breasts…the hair…man, if he wasn't in a happy relationship right now, he'd totally go straight right about now. And why was a gal like that in a drab place like this?

He blinked as he noticed a small figure following after her, a black trenchcoat draped on the slight form.

Hey, wasn't he that Bain kid?

* * *

So this was school? He wasn't really impressed by it but at the same time, he peered curiously at it. Nothing about it shouted out to him yet he had been told that this was where he was going to school before the accident that took his memory.

He wished that someone would tell him what had happened to give him amnesia but people were a bit silent on that one and he didn't know why. The way he figured it, if he knew what had caused it in the first place, then he would be able to avoid it and keep from getting amnesia again in the future.

He followed after his mother, unsure of what they were doing here. She had only come up to him that morning and told him to get dressed and that she was taking him to school for a bit. Not knowing anything else he could do, he had shrugged and done what she had told him to do, grabbing the first pieces of cloth that he could get his hands on. It was then that he encountered the coat he had donned on; for some reason he felt comfortable in it yet at the same time felt that something was missing from it.

It was as if it were too light and that there should have been something in the pockets or at least the sleeves.

Unable to figure out that mystery, he had gone back downstairs where his mother gushed over him and commented that she wished he had left the coat. Was it that she didn't like it? And if so then why did he have it in the first place?

There were just so many questions he had…

"We've been expecting you," the receptionist greeted dully, sounding as if she did not want to be there. He didn't really pay it any mind, more interested with the bland surroundings and that poster on the wall that said "You're Mother Doesn't Work Here". "Principal Estrada is in his office."

"I know the way," his mother said briskly. "Come with me Sweetie."

He followed after her, entering into a small office where a handsome, brown man with greased back black hair was winking at a reflection of himself from a handheld mirror. "Who's sexy? That's right, you are," he cooed with an accented voice to his reflection, oblivious to the fact that he had more company. He held a hand up with his thumb sticking out perpendicular to his pointer finger and made a clicking noise from his mouth, one eye shut completely.

"Esteban, you're looking as gorgeous as always," his mother said, her voice husky for some reason.

This Esteban (wasn't he also Principal Estrada?) spun towards them, hastily putting the mirror down as if he was trying to hide something while trying to smooth some wrinkles out of his button up white shirt with his free man.

"_Dios mio_!" he swore. "You snuck up on me again, _Senorita_ Cynis! You, you are a sneaky one, yes?"

"You would know, wouldn't you Esteban?" his mother purred. "Unfortunately, I'm not here for pleasure today. I've brought my son here for that little aptitude exam or whatever you call it now."

"Ah _si_, we have e'erything ready for _poco_ Cynis," Esteban or Principal Estrada or whatever it was he called himself said, looking at with a friendly look that at the same time looked disinterested. "If you weel follow me _poco nino_, we weel get you set up, _si_?"

He nodded, not sure of what else to do other than that. He kept his eyes trained on the dark-skinned man as he walked past him and then followed after, keeping the man's back in sight at all times. The man led him, ultimately, to what was probably a classroom or something but telling by how barren it seemed, it was perhaps something to hold detention or bad students or something. He only knew what he had been told and read thus far so he shouldn't assume and wait until he was told what it was.

That sounded so tedious for some reason

"Goddamn Mexican bastard," he heard a voice from outside the room grumble and he turned his head in time to see what looked like a balding, grey haired man dressed in green vanish from sight.

Apparently, the principal had heard that too and was glaring at the door and muttered to himself, "Goddamn transvestite theeng. Why do I keep he/she/it around?"

He looked back up at the principal with expectant eyes, waiting for him to notice him and get back to what he was here to do.

It took the man a bit to remember where he was and why and he looked down at him. "Oh right, we are here for your test. _Si_, now take a seat and let me explain what you weel be doeeng."

He made no response and took his seat. The next thing he knew, a packet of paper was slammed down in front of him with a couple of pencils and a long strip of paper that had these tiny rectangles on them.

"Now leesten closely to me, _poco nino_," the principal said. "You have two hours to do thees in but make sure that when you answer a question in the test booklet, you fill in one of these rectangles on the scantron, _si_? For example, if you answer a question with A, you feel in thees spot here, _si_? If it is B, then this spot and so on. Do you understand?"

He nodded, not bothering to say anything else.

"Very good!" the principal chirped. "Remember, two hours! Take your time doeeng thees test while I do your mother, _si_? Good _nino_."

Huh, was his mother going to be taking a test too? Well, whatever that meant, he shrugged and opened the packet.

Okay, _if x=27y – 10, then what does y equal_? Glancing down at the answers, he automatically marked B. .37x. He paused. How had he known that? When he looked at the problem, he was already placing the 10 with the x and then placing the 27 beneath it. How did he know to do that? Oh well, next question.

_At what point does a retarded fish frog first evolve into a freaking monkey?_

What was a retarded fish frog and why did he need to know what it meant? Well, it was a trick question since the retarded fish frog had to change into a…now how did he know that too? This was starting to spook him a bit.

He marked down his answer and moved on to the next one.

_If Bella choose to give Jacob head while Edward plays hide and seek with Paris Hilton, what would be the best technique to apply to a werewolf's balls in order to make him ejaculate quicker?_

…this was going to be a long test…

* * *

He jumped in his seat when the door slammed open loudly, a disheveled principal in the doorway.

"Time's up!" he said cheerfully. "Just geeve me your test and you can go _poco nino_!"

He nodded slowly, slightly frightened that if he said anything, the man would attack him. The only person he had been around that was this energetic was his mother but she purposely toned down on it so it wouldn't make him skittish.

"That's a good _nino_," the principal said as he was handed the finished packet and scantron. "Now, run along to the office while I go geet thees theeng graded, _si_? You should geet the result later thees afternoon."

He nodded one more time and stepped out into the hallway, thankful to get away. However, he found that he didn't the way to the main office and stood there looking lost. He hadn't kept track or where he had been taken before so he couldn't backtrack. Already he was starting to feel a bit anxious, what with there being no one around to help him. From the corner of his eye, he spotted someone entering the hallway, heading in his direction. As the person drew nearer, he recognized them as the girl he had first seen when he had woken up.

He believed her name was Charlie, though he could be mistaken.

He opened his mouth to try and get her attention but the words turned to ash on his tongue. He just…he just couldn't say anything. He had this urge not to be an annoyance but he also needed to get to the main office. Damn, he was shy; had he been more outgoing before he became amnesic?

Well she was getting closer and she hadn't seemed to have noticed him yet. He shuffled his weight from leg to leg and finally raised an arm out as she was about to pass him. The moment he tapped her shoulder, he reeled in his arm as quickly as he could, eyes wide as she nearly tore it off when she spun to face him.

"Oh, it's you Bain," she said slowly, blinking after she realized it was him. "What are you doing here? Aren't you suppose to be home?"

"Um, I need to go to the office," he mumbled hesitantly.

"What?" she asked, frowning at him.

Hmm, she hadn't heard him. Maybe he should be louder?

"I…I need to go to the office," he said a bit louder.

She blinked at him again and shrugged her shoulders. "Fine, whatever, follow me."

* * *

She had been dying in that classroom, what with the boring teacher and nobody paying any attention. In order to get some stimulus, she had to ask for the hall pass so that she could go to the restroom. After been eyed at as if she was some kind of criminal, she was allowed to go provided that she "come back quickly as we're about to get into some exciting stuff!"

And no, that exclamation point wasn't hers but the teachers.

Yeah.

Not only that, the guys in there were gushing over some woman that they saw in the school earlier. Apparently, those that had seen her were love struck and half-erect (she hadn't needed to know that last one) and while she had thought they were making it up, a girl came in who said she saw her and was willing to go gay right then and there.

She hoped they weren't talking about who she thought they were talking about.

So while she had left her peers to face further torture, she was going to take the long way to the nearest restroom and drag her feet while she was at it. The last thing she had ever expected was to run into Bain who had this lost look about him, something that shouldn't have been there.

Then she remembered he had amnesia but that still didn't answer what the hell he was doing in the school in the first place.

"Fine, whatever, follow me."

So now she was playing follow the leader with her as the leader. She had never really liked that game for some reason. Maybe it was because she never really liked having someone right behind her since they usually had some sharp and pointy object ready to stab into her. In fact, her body was tense, waiting for that sign that something was about to plunge into her.

This was Bain she was leading around.

But nothing was tried and once or twice, she glanced back him, always caught off guard to see a more innocent and shy look than the arrogant and malicious one she was used to. Damn this was fucked up.

Still, it was a bit refreshing not getting backstabbed all the time. No more of Bain's mind games where he'd twist her up inside and once brought her to tears. Perhaps she could get used to it.

"This is it," she announced to the silent boy, giving him a once over. She didn't know why but she felt a little disappointed that Bain didn't seem so sinister anymore. The trenchcoat and boots went a long way to cultivate that image but apparently, it wasn't the clothes that made him look malevolent. It was something that belonged to Bain plain and simple.

"Um…thank you," Bain mumbled to her. The way he was nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot reminded her of a little kid. That and the way he seemed to be avoiding her eyes so shyly.

She was tempted to call him one of the many pet names she had for him. You know, asshole, bastard, psycho, and once Susan B. Anthony but that one was a long story. Instead she settled for, "See you around."

He nodded hesitantly and moved past her into the main office. Her eyes trailed after him, widening slightly when she saw him greeted by his mother.

Sigh, she really should have known that this was who the boys were talking about.

Sighing, she turned around and headed back toward the restroom, still intending to squander as much time as she could before going back to class.

* * *

To be honest, it only took a minute to grade a scantron. There was this machine, you see, that read all the darkened spots on scantron and compared them to another set that was only correct answers, marking the ones that didn't match up on the scantron that was being graded.

The wonders of technology.

But what was stressing out Principal Esteban Estrada was the lack of small pink lines on the scantron of one Bain Cynis. He had made the test up himself, throwing out the original assessment test because it was "too full of nonsense" and that the questions he'd be asking would be more real world centered and important, a few questions from the actual assessment being put in grudgingly.

Had to give the kid some hope, right? After all, it was the school's job to crush that hope.

He didn't know if the boy was lucky, a genius, or what. Since the state was requiring him to send in the results, not knowing what he had done, and like hell he was going to say anything that would get him deported, he was at his wits' end.

He wasn't in this country legally; in fact the job had been outsourced originally but he had come in, offering to the same job for even cheaper. So now he was an illegal immigrant working a state job in a public school system in which the district was doing its best to keep him there without revealing his status because he banged the superintendent enough times.

That and he was power hungry. He ran this school with an iron fist and only a blowjob could get him to budge on his positions. A handjob would only get him to look the other way.

And yes, he had heard various reports from both students and staff about Bain Cynis and the way the boy would try to kill or maim someone on a weekly basis. If his mother wasn't such a MILF, he would have expelled the kid by now. Now that the kid was trying to go back to school, he had schemed to fuck him over and get him put into a special ed class, tarnishing the boy's academic record and giving him the status of a retard.

His big plan had blown up in his face as the boy had scored a 90% on the assessment. For South Park standards, that would mean graduating. No, he couldn't let this freak get the best of him. Yet he couldn't dismiss these results either.

But despite his illegal status, he was smart. He knew how to compromise. Sure he could cheat and erase some answers and regrade the test again but really, he was too lazy and sleepy to do that. It was almost siesta time too and he never took a siesta without getting all his work out of the way so he could sleep and drink until it was time for him to go home.

And he couldn't let his tequila go untouched.

* * *

He had heard the squeal and knew something was up. Yet he wasn't bothered enough to get up and see what it was about, instead preferring to continue reading this _Silence of the Lambs_ book. He had never knew that human skin, when stretched out, remained stretched and didn't retract.

Was there still time for him to change his name to Hannibal? Or maybe Jame?

He jerked in surprise when he heard a loud bell sound and it took him a moment to realize that it was just that doorbell thing he had been shown. That thing was so loud and it still scared him each time it was rung.

Before he could get back into the book, he heard another, even louder squeal and soon the tromping sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

The next thing he knew, the door to his room swung open and there stood his mother who was beaming at him with a large grin. "Oh Bain sweetie! I'm so proud of you! Esteban just called back with your results and he wants you to know that they're going to let you skip to your senior year! Of course, he did invite you to come for the last couple of months of your junior year so that you could get to know your friends at school again."

He blinked, taking in all the words she was saying but not really comprehending them. Some of the stuff she was saying made no sense to him. Senior year and junior? What were those? And what was skipping?

"You've made mommy so proud of you," his mother continued to squeal. "My little Sweetie is so smart! Oh! Guess what? Your sister is here! She came all the way back from college to visit! Isn't that sweet of her?"

He blinked again. Sister? He had a sister? He wondered why this was being brought up now.

A person pushed around his mother and he could easily see the relation she had with his mother. Her hair was long and dark that seemed to naturally flow from her sun-kissed skinned head. She seemed well-proportioned, he supposed and she really was good looking, even with the revealing clothing she was wearing. As she drew closer, he made out the detail that cinched that they were related; her eyes were different colors, her right eye a solid green and her left pure gray.

"Is it true?" she asked, rapping her knuckles softly against his head. "You don't remember a thing?"

He was blinking his eyes a lot, wasn't he? He nodded his head in confirmation and felt there was something wrong when she smiled at him. It wasn't one of those reassuring ones, more like one that foreboded something bad, like how a murderer would smile before they killed someone. He got that comparison from all the books he had been reading from that shelf and he felt it was adequate for this situation.

"I think we're just going to get along great," his sister said, wrapping an arm dangerously around his neck while grinning up at their mother.

"Maybe now you two can have a healthy relationship," their mother side dreamily. "I'll just leave you two to get to know each other."

He was tempted to reach an arm out and ask her to stay but he remained stone still as he found himself being shoved to the floor as soon as their mother was out of hearing range. He looked up wide-eyed at the girl who was his sister and he swallowed as he saw a nasty look on her face.

"I'm going to enjoy this," his sister preened. "Now, you just do what I tell you to do and we're going to get along just peachy. Go out to my car and bring up my stuff to my room. I don't want to hear any sap from you either, Braindead."

Would it be obvious to point out just how afraid he was right now?


	5. My First Day

Author's Note: Plot driven chapter, one that I've been working on for some time and to put a spin on the whole new kid in school plot device that most OC fics use. This is how I envision it canonically, what the kids in South Park would do with a new student, especially if they don't like them. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

My First Day

Why had she agreed to this?

Charlie had that question on repeat in her head as she stood before the Cynis household. Early in the evening, yesterday, she had gotten a call from Bain's mother of all people who asked her if she would escort Bain to school the following day.

Her first answer was to be hell no and hang up but her own mother was nearby, observing her so she had to decline politely. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cynis wasn't a person who took no as an answer. Charlie didn't know how she did it but she found herself agreeing to be Bain's guide for the day and spending the rest of the night wondering what the hell had happened.

And here she was.

As she stood out in the cold, waiting for Bain to get his ass out here, refusing to wait inside where it was warm on general principle, she found herself distracted by a pink Jaguar and wondered who in the hell would own a car that gaudy. And pink? It was either a joke gift or someone was screaming to the world that they were a girl.

God she hated people like that.

She heard the telltale sound of a door squeaking open and she squared her shoulders, waiting for whatever she was about to face head on. She didn't expect to see a short boy in a blue dress shirt and khaki dress pants, hair dark from being wet and combed to his left. It was only when she got a look at his eyes that she figured out who this was. Bain.

Holy shit.

"Uh…what are…um, why are you here?" Bain mumbled shyly, head bowed.

She gathered her wits and said, "I'm here to take you to school. Apparently, your mother thinks you have trouble finding your way out of a wet paper bag so she asked me."

"Oh…well that's nice of you," Bain said, still not looking up at her.

That was the closest she got to how she used to speak to him and even then she was unprepared for Bain's answer. She was tempted to demand who he was and what had he done with Bain when she remembered that he had amnesia and couldn't remember shit. That inevitably led up to the question of why the hell was he going to school today. Shouldn't he be back in grade school or something?

"I took an assessment and got a score high enough to go to the next grade," Bain told her quietly when she asked. "My mother wants me to go to school and be with my friends. Who were my friends, do you know?"

Oh, how to put this. He was a prick and asshole before he lost his memories and didn't have any friends to speak of. And where had he gotten the idea that he had friends? Remembering the conversation she had with Bain's mother yesterday, she had a pretty good guess who the culprit was.

Was she really that out of touch with her son's life?

In an effort to change the subject, she asked, "Who's car is that? Is it your mom's?"

"It's my sister's," Bain shrugged. "She came here yesterday." Then, in a whisper he added, "I don't like her."

She blinked at that and gave him a look. "Why do you say that?"

Bain looked away from her and remained silent, not answering her but unlike before where there would have been a smug air about him, she could tell that he really didn't want to talk about it. Well fine, it wasn't her problem anyway, was it?

* * *

"Who the hell is that fag?" Cartman muttered as he left off from trying to flirt (i.e. torment) with a girl.

The girl in question was an olive-complected bitch with blue streaks in her brown hair and shit flavored brown eyes, all dressed in plaid and blue jeans, who went by the name of Brianna Vargas. Brianna was opinionated, like Kyle, and had some kind of aversion to being touched, something that wasn't Kyle, and had a short temper, just like Kyle.

Every once in a while, he'd catch these looks she would give him, you know, the kind where someone was thinking all these fantasy thoughts where they were tromping through a meadow and shit? Those. Anyway, he'd only really catch them after he had given some kind of answer that was grade A bullshit to a teacher and yet held an impenetrable logic to them that you couldn't argue with.

Nevertheless, he would come up from behind her at school and spook her by planting his hands on her shoulders and laughing when she jumped and tried to get them off.

But back to the matter at hand, there was a new fag in the school and…and wasn't that that bitch Charlie? What was she doing with that fag?

"Who the hell is that?" Brianna asked bluntly.

"Why are you asking me that, shit for eyes?" he shot at her bluntly. "You think I'm psychic or something?"

"Oh! I-I wasn't asking you!" Brianna said hastily to him. Then, as if realizing who she was speaking to, she straightened up and added, "I was just wondering who it was."

"Oh, so who the fuck are you talking to, ho?" he sneered, sounding offended that she had the gall to ask someone else a question when he was right there.

"The only one fat around here," Brianna snapped at him.

"Now that's now fair of you," he admonished, "you don't need to be so hard on yourself just because you have a few extra pounds on you."

"I wasn't talking about myself!" Brianna practically shrieked at him.

"And right there is Eric Cartman," Charlie White said as she passed him, "and there's his main squeeze, Brianna. Stay away from those two unless you have a deathwish."

Both of them frowned and glared at Charlie, Cartman more so because she dared to say he was anyway associated with this ho. "Excuse me?" he demanded. Then he noticed the fag that was at her side. "What the hell are you looking at?"

The fag shifted his eyes away but not fast enough since Cartman was able to catch an oddity about them. Those eyes weren't of the same color…so that would mean…

"Hey, ho!" he spat at Charlie. "Is this faggy bastard that Bain guy?"

"What's it to you?" Charlie retorted as she led that fag away from them.

"Hey, he was just asking," Brianna defended. "You don't have to be so possessive of your husband you know?"

Charlie shot a glare at her as Cartman bursted out in laughter, holding up a hand for a high-five that Brianna didn't return.

He soon noticed that he was left hanging.

"Ey! What kind of stupid bitch are you? When someone holds their hands up like this, you have to slap them five! Are you retarded or something?"

And the cycle continued.

* * *

Word spread faster than a wildfire.

Before first period had even begun, everyone knew that Bain Cynis was back and that he wasn't acting like the asshole he usually was.

"He didn't even look like himself!" Bebe exclaimed as she gossiped. "Kim was there with me! He looked more like a dork than a psycho! Right Kim?"

"Totally," Kim agreed. "I mean, who dressed him? His mom?"

"Like yeah!" Bebe said. "Those pants are so last season!"

Nearby, one Ryleigh, gossip fanatic, was listening in, the gossip seemingly juicy enough for her to stand being in a five foot radius of Bebe. "What else?" she asked eagerly.

Bebe, also sacrificing her enmity with the brunette, answered, "His hair! I mean, who combs it like that anymore? If it's for prom or something, I can understand but there are stylists for that!"

"Bebe, you can't judge someone just on their looks alone," Wendy Testaburger admonished, pushing her hair out of her face as she focused on her best friend.

"You're right," Bebe agreed. "I forgot his shoes. Who the hell wears dress shoes to school?"

"No way!" Ryleigh gasped, before trying to reign in her enthusiasm.

"Way!" Kim laughed, waving her hand.

"I don't know, I think he looks kinda cute," a girlish student said shyly. "He looked like a little puppy dog!"

"Leo, you're talking about Bain here," Wendy deadpanned.

The student who was actually a boy simply shrugged his shoulders, his black bangs quivering in the heated air. While an oddity in the school, Leo Mason was not the strangest thing to grace the halls of South Park High. Once you found out about his gender, the immediate conclusion that he was a crossdresser was inevitable. That and the fact that despite wear girl-sized jeans, a white and pink shirt with a picture of "Hello Kitty" on the front, he looked better in girls' clothes than did the girls!

Imagine Eric Cartman's shock when he tried to hit on him and learned the truth…

Leo only giggled and replied, "So? He doesn't look evil anymore. Now that I'm not shaking in my boots in his presence, I'm starting to see how cute he is!"

Wendy raised an eyebrow at him. "But didn't he threaten to castrate you and make you more like a woman?"

"Yep and boy was Miles pissed!" Leo chirped. "I think they broke a couple of the cafeteria tables in that fight."

"I'd think so when they were throwing each other into them," Kim rolled her eyes.

"And it's the reason the school doesn't have metal silverware anymore," Wendy added.

"And didn't Miles have to get stitches?" Ryleigh asked.

"Yeah, Bain did stab that fork in his shoulder really deep," Leo said thoughtfully. "I don't think Miles really cared. He kinda shows it off as a battle scar now. Says a midget with an attitude problem did it."

"Nice!" Ryleigh commented.

"Ahem!" Bebe coughed. "Gay," she drawled out. "Seriously, I don't want to hear about any fag fantasies you might have Leo."

"Hey, I'm not a fag!" Leo protested. "I don't own a Harly Davidson!"

Unwilling to resist, Ryleigh added her own two cents. "He has you there."

"Whatever," Bebe snorted. Something caught her eye and she said loudly, "Hey, what about you corpse girl? What's your take on Bain?"

Corpse girl, who was currently reading a book entitled "Autopsies and You: Why the Dead are More Interesting than Paris Hilton!" put her book down and stared apathetically back. Her real name was Daniella Callahan but most people knew her as DJ. With deep red hair that reached towards her crystal blue eyes and skin that was just starting to tan slightly, another sign of spring, a case could be made that she was eye candy.

However, her cynical personality wrecked that image of her as she had sent many boys and Clyde into tears with just the first few words uttered from her mouth. She was mean, she was sarcastic, she was lazy.

In short, she was a female Bain without the homicidal tendencies.

Not that anyone would say that to her face unless they wanted a verbal wedgie.

"He's faking it," she stated bluntly, returning her eyes to her book.

The girls (and Leo) blinked at her. "You…you think he'd faking being an amnesiac?" Wendy asked slowly.

"Why not?" DJ retorted rudely, looking back up from her book. "It's not the worst thing he's done. He's up to something and wants everyone off their guard so that they won't know what hit them. Just you watch."

It was Ryleigh who gathered her wits to say, "How much sand do you have up your vagina? Seriously, girl."

"Go ahead, make fun of me," DJ said. "You watch. Not even he can keep up such an act for long, especially if you bully him. He'll show his colors, his kind always does."

* * *

"Just sit there and keep quiet," Charlie instructed him, gesturing towards a desk right beside hers. He nodded and sat in the seat that she had directed him to. His eyes shifted from side to side, taking in all the unfamiliarity of this place and the people who were staring right back at him.

Some seemed to be not impressed by what they saw and ignored him while others turned to those beside them and spoke to one another about something.

He jumped in his seat when something slammed onto the desk in front of him and his eyes shot up to find a very large, fat person staring right at him with a look on condescension. The boy's lips curved into a sneer and he found that he didn't like the chill that he felt shiver up his spine.

"Hey numbnuts, what the hell do you think you're doing in _my_ seat?" the fat boy demanded.

He stared back wide eyed, unsure of what to say. Was he sitting in this person's seat? But why would Charlie tell him to sit right here if it belonged to someone else?

"Knock it off Cartman," Charlie drawled from her seat, shooting him a pointed look. "We both know you sit over there," she said, wave towards a seat a couple rows away. "Are you trying to give Bain a hard time?"

"Why yes, ho, I am," this Cartman person replied without removing his eyes off him. "And I do not appreciate you sticking up for this cockfag anymore than you are so please, little Charlie, keep out of it."

There was a snort from nearby that distracted him for a moment and he looked to see a tall boy dressed all in blue with the most dispassionate blue eyes he had ever seen. Beside him was a tall and broad-shoulder black kid who was smirking at him and wearing a green colored coat that he had seen other wearing around this school. The first one looked away and headed to his desk, as if what was occurring was beneath him, the black guy following after yet keeping an eye on him for some reason.

He didn't like it.

"Fucking Craig," Cartman muttered. "Anyway, where were we?"

"You were about to go fuck yourself?" Charlie suggested. "Bathroom's that way."

"Oh ha ha ha, I forgot to laugh," Cartman said dryly. "Really, that spunk of yours is so enduring."

"Oh yeah?" Charlie perked up. "Well your sincerity makes me want to take a scalding hot shower because it makes me feel so dirty."

"That's so mature," Cartman rolled his eyes. "I am just wowed by how mature you are, really."

"Yeah, you're right," Charlie agreed, leaning back in her seat. "I am mature, especially when compared to a moron like you."

Cartman pulled off his gloves and smacked them on his desk, the fat boy's arms spreading out as he said, "You want some of this? You want a piece of me?"

"If I wanted indigestion," Charlie fired back.

"Oh it's on bitch!" Cartman snapped. "It is—"

"Now ladies, take your seats so we can get started," another voice cut in, interrupting Cartman.

"Ey! Fuck you! I'm no girl!" Cartman roared at the balding man who was at the teacher's desk, somehow slipping into the room while Charlie and Cartman were arguing.

"You have tits like one, Eric," the teacher quipped, "now sit down and before I forget, detention for you Eric."

"Aw, aww!" Cartman moaned, grabbing his gloves and shuffling off to his desk. "You're breaking mah balls, Mr. Garrison. You're really, really breaking mah balls."

"Yes, yes, we're happy for you," Mr. Garrison said dismissively. "Sit down and shut your fucking trap so that we can get down to business, shall we?" It looked like the man was about to say more but he paused, his eyes boring straight at him. "Oh, you're back," he said bitterly. "Well, whatever, just keep your trap shut and everything will be peachy."

He looked at Charlie, puzzled over the cold treatment he was receiving. Charlie merely traded him look for look and shrugged.

That didn't make him feel any better.

"Okay class, today we'll be discussing celebrity divorce, why it's so common and why the hell Michael Douglas won't take pity on us men and divorce Catherine Zeta Jones."

* * *

If only to prove the stereotype of a small school in a small town, word about Bain's return was whispered and gossiped about before the end of first period, as Charlie found out while leading her new shadow to second period. She could feel the eyes on her and Bain but she could ignore them easily and did so.

Bain however was starting to tremble like a skittish animal or Tweek Tweak.

In the natural order of things, they had different classes for second period but since Bain had scored really well on that test and was going to be passed up to the next grade, he didn't have to attend per say so she was letting him tag along. However, if that little spat with Cartman was any indication, there was going to be at least one disgruntled student in her next class.

She merely picked the desk beside her of something she knew wouldn't overreact too badly. Or so she thought…

"Um, Lottery Ticket? Why's he in my desk?" Kenny asked, eyeing Bain carefully.

"I'm babysitting him and need to keep him in a ten foot radius," she drawled at the poor boy. "I figured you wouldn't mind not getting to sit next to me for the rest of the year."

"Charlie, you know that this is the safest desk in this classroom," Kenny said seriously. "It's the one seat that gives me a one hundred percent chance of living through this class. I do not want to die today; I have a test to take later today and I can't afford to miss it."

Charlie raised an eyebrow at him, slightly surprised at his objection. "Then where do you want me to put him?"

"Pip wouldn't mind," Kenny shrugged. "Right Pip?" he called out to a smaller blond.

"Oh? Are you talking to me?" Pip asked cheerfully.

"Kenny, Pip is on the other side of the classroom," Charlie said slowly.

"And not being attached to your side for an hour is not going to hurt him," Kenny replied.

Charlie stared into the blond's eyes, trying to see if there was any way she could get him to change his mind. "Is there something I could do for you" she sighed, regretting that she was even thinking about it, "or to you?"

"Not today," Kenny shrugged.

Charlie frowned at that. That was weird; why was Kenny purposely overlooking her innuendo? He wasn't the type of person to do that…

"It's okay," Bain murmured. "I'll sit somewhere else."

"Atta boy!" Kenny exclaimed, slapping the amnesiac's shoulder. "Pip! Move your ass already! We need your desk!"

As she watched one blond bully another over seating arraignment, she had this bad feeling well up in her. It was a feeling that lasted throughout the whole of second period, never leaving for a moment and distracting her from the teacher. Fortunately, she wasn't called on by the asshole and so when the bell rang to end it, she was ready to pick Bain up and lead them to third.

It was then that she found the back of Bain's head covered in spitballs. You couldn't tell how many there were; there were so many that it looked more like one huge ball! Bain seemed to be grimacing but he wasn't complaining either.

"Jeez," she groaned, doing her best to clean it off him, "why didn't you say anything?"

"Was I?" Bain asked uncertainly.

Okay, let's be honest here. This new Bain was starting to annoy her. Used to be he wouldn't take anyone's shit and here he was taking everyone's shit. Where the hell had his backbone gone?

"Next time, say something," she ordered.

* * *

Third period wasn't much to talk about but lunch was when things started to come to a head. The girl, Charlie, had stayed with him only a few minutes before asking if he could handle things for a bit by himself. He nodded slowly, not wanting to continue burden himself on her.

As soon as she was out of sight, he began to feel uncomfortable, as if all the eyes in the room were focused on him. He just looked down at the food that Charlie had placed in front of him and starting using the plastic fork to toy with it, not really hungry at all.

He heard the screeching of chairs being pulled back and he looked up to see several boys sitting down at the table he was at, all of them looking at him with these expressions that he did not like. He recognized the fat one (Cartman, right?) from the first class and the blond in the orange parka from the second but he didn't know who the kid in the green jacket and red poof ball hat and the other with the ushanka (how did he know what that thing was called?) were.

The fact they were all looking at him with similar looks only served to alarm him further for some reason.

He had the distinct urge to run away…

He felt two very firm hands settle on his shoulders. He didn't like the way they felt, as if they were there to keep him from doing anything like getting out of his chair. He turned his head and looked up to see who it was that was behind him and spotted a very large black teen who was grinning down at him and wearing a green jacket that was virtually like the one the guy in the red poof ball hat was wearing. He spied out a patch that was over the black guy's left chest, one that had the symbol of an oblong ball and the words "Varsity Football" written in cursive.

Huh, how what was this "football" and why was he able to recognize cursive?

He felt a hand on his head turn force him to look back in front of him where those four boys were now joined by two more. He recognized the one in blue from his first class (hadn't Cartman called him Craig) and another brunet in a green jacket and red shirt that peaked out from beneath it.

He was starting to feel suffocated right about now…

"Hey ya Bain," the blond in the orange parka greeted, his mouth curved into a toothy grin. "Having a good day?"

He swallowed. Hold that thought, he was really going to have to start thinking of himself as "Bain" instead of some nameless blob that had a gender. Bain, Bain, his name was Bain…

"Hey asshole, he asked you a question," Cartman snapped at him, startling him from his musings. "It's only polite that you answer him, eh?"

He…Bain nodded his head slowly, hoping that that would be answer enough.

"What was that?" the boy in the green jacket and red poof ball hat asked, holding a hand up to his ear. "I couldn't quite hear you over here."

Bain swallowed and parted his dry lips. "Y…yes?"

"Yes, you are having a good day?" the blond in the parka asked.

"Y-yes?"

"That's cool," the guy in the green jacket and red poof ball hat said, nodding his head as if he, Bain, had said something profound.

"You really don't remember any of us, do you?" the guy in the green ushanka (how the hell did he know what that hat was, really?) asked.

"Yes," he said with slightly more confidence. Maybe…maybe he could do this…

"Well I'm Kyle," the guy in the green ushanka said. Laying an arm around the guy with the green jacket and red poof ball hat, he continued, "This is Stan," then nodding his head towards the blond in the orange parka, "that's Kenny," then nodding his head towards Cartman, "and that's Cartman, or as we all like to call him, Fatass."

"Ey! Fuck you Jew!" Cartman scowled at Kyle.

When Kyle's brow creased, Stan seemed to pick up that something was about to happen and hastily spoke before whatever it was could happen. "The guy right here," he gestured with a hand towards the guy in blue, "is Craig and beside him is Clyde." Bain's eyes left Craig and rested on the brunet in the green jacket and red shirt. "And behind you is Token," Stan finished.

This…this was a lot of names he had to memorize. Hopefully that was not going to be too difficult.

"Not very hungry, are you?" Kenny pointed out. He looked down at his lunch then back at Kenny and shrugged his shoulders.

"I…guess…"

"If you're not going to eat it, then you have to throw it away," Token spoke from behind him, his hands tightening on his shoulders slightly.

"Hey…" Kenny began to protest only to be interrupted by Cartman.

"The negro is right," he said, ignoring the glare Token threw at him, "you don't want to be a messy eater, do you?"

"Speak for yourself," Kyle muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Cartman snapped, shooting another glare at Kyle.

"C'mon, let's just show him what to do," Stan said exasperatedly.

"Bout time," Craig muttered under his breath.

They were standing up and Bain found himself being pulled up out of his seat by Token. Token's hands never left his shoulders as Stan picked up his tray of uneaten lunch and led him over to one of the trashcans on the far side of the wall. He watched them all with wide eyes, heedless that he was surrounded on all sides, wondering why they were taking the time out of their day to help him.

"You see this?" Stan asked him. "This is where you throw your trash away."

"C'mon!" Kenny whined. "At least let me have a bite! We don't have to waste it!"

"Relax Ken," Kyle said casually. "We're just taking out the trash. Right?"

"Right," both Token and Craig said simultaneously. Bain nearly jumped at how close the two were to his person and an internal alarm was shrieking within him, screaming "Danger!"

He felt a couple more pairs of hands grab him and the next thing he knew he was lifted off the floor and going headfirst into the trashcan. Revulsion filled him as he felt the plastic of trays, plates, and utensils press against his skin along with the uneaten foods that the cafeteria was serving. The grease and saliva, as well as the smell, was getting to him and he began to kick his legs, trying his best to dislodge himself from his tormenters and this receptacle of filth.

He squeaked when he felt the boys above dump his uneaten lunch on top of him, gravy seeping into his clothes, runny mashed potatoes slipping down to rest by his frightened face and peas sprinkling around him.

But that was only the beginning. He heard the raucous sound and soon more uneaten food being poured onto him and some questionable liquids, some of which were white and some that weren't, drenching him. He stopped with his struggles and allowed them to do what they wanted, the raucous noise blending into one bland sound that he found he could ignore.

He clenched his eyes shut and waited out the unceasing storm that raged around him.

* * *

Lunch was practically over when Charlie stomped on her unfinished cigarette, the cancer stick having been begged off from the Goth kids that were hanging around the back of the school. The nicotine was beginning to settle her, calm her down from the frustration she felt at having to chauffeur Bain around like he was a dog or something. What was she, his keeper? Yeah, she did have a role in making him this way but it had been his own fault that he had stepped out onto that ice.

Still, she didn't know how long she was going to have to do this babysitting shit so she might as well start up a rap sheet with the Goths or invest in her own cigs. She had a feeling she was going to need them.

Most people were hanging outside the cafeteria, a bunch of them laughing at something. She had no idea what they were talking about and thus ignored them though she couldn't help but pick up "…got what he deserved…" and "fucking hilarious!"

She passed by an unusual group, one that had Kenny and his usual trio of friends accompanied by their sometimes rivals, each of them acting as if they had done something amazing, or arguing in the case of Kyle and Cartman. Nothing new for that last bit but she was now curious. What had happened when she had turned her back?

She was soon presented with her answer when she stepped into the cafeteria and saw someone's legs sticking out of one of the trashcans. She chuckled at it, wondering who the poor sap was. She hadn't been aware of there being a new kid so that drastically limited the number of people it could have been.

Closer inspection soon stole her humor as she slowly began to recognize one of those pant legs. No, it couldn't be…yet who else could it be? Without a qualm, she reached a hand in and grasp the person by the hem of their pants and pulled them back with as much strength as she could muster.

There was almost an audible "plop" as Bain came out, covered in that day's Salisbury steak and mash potatoes combo with various side orders of peas, corn, or beans. She had never seen him look so miserable or so messed up. What the hell had happened?

Then the last thing she thought she'd ever see happened; she heard Bain sniff, as if trying to hold back tears. Oh Christ, he was going to cry, wasn't he? Shit, she did not know how to handle this.

"Hey, suck it up man," she tried to coax. When Bain looked even more pathetic, she asked, "Who were the guys who did this?"

Bain didn't answer, just looked away and trembled where he stood.

Tired of not getting anywhere, she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to the nearest restroom, not giving two shits that she was taking him into the girls' restroom. Wadding up some paper towels, she wet them then proceeded to try and at least clean Bain up a little. To be honest, she was thinking about sending him home since his clothes were practically ruined and all. When she suggested it, Bain frantically shook his head "no."

At this point, she was really regretting allowing his mother to talk her into this.

Several wads of paper towels later and Bain only looking marginally clean, she placed her hands on his shoulders and said, "You need to stick up for yourself, all right? The assholes out there are just going to eat you alive if you don't."

Bain sniffed and nodded. Charlie had the distinct feeling that no, he was not going to follow her advice.

Who'd ever thought that she would start to miss the old Bain?

"C'mon, we're going to be late," she muttered, conveniently ignoring the fact that she could have cared less if she was tardy or not, as she dragged out of the girls' restroom and glared at anyone who spotted them, daring them to say something.

She had the feeling that this day was only going to get longer…

* * *

Brianna Vargas: **FunkyChicken001**

Leo Mason: **Luminescents**

Daniella DJ Callahan: **Sounds-and-Silence**


	6. Where There's Smoke, There's Chelsea

Author's Note: So many of you were affected by Bain being stuffed into a trash can. However, that should set the score for what this fic is about. After all, it gives a more malicious meaning to the summary, doesn't it? Developing subplots ahead! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

Where There's Smoke, There's Chelsea

DJ Callahan peered over the top of her book with narrowed eyes at the current source of her irritation.

That irritation was currently Wendy and Ryleigh talking with one another too loudly, loud enough that she could hear them talking about what had happened at lunch. Of course, the two were right next to her but that didn't mean they couldn't just whisper instead of their normal voices.

It wasn't that she was a mean person, well she was, it was just that she didn't like people. Period. Always talking to each other and making noise, whining about how suckish their life was and how they wish so-and-so would just _pay attention_ to them. Why couldn't they just shut the fuck up or, better yet, hang themselves and let the rest of them live their lives in peace?

She'd always been an introverted child with parents who were decent but also were married to their work so she spent a lot of time in her head. It was much more pleasant there anyway. It was only when she first came into contact with other humans did her other personality traits show themselves. That's right, _show_, not develop. She had always been mean and rude, cynical practically being her middle name.

Boys stayed away from her because, and she quoted, "she was too much work for too little payout." And yes, she got the sexual message that belied it. Only girls and a few gay guys talked to her but that was only because they were either: a) bored out of their minds or b) desperate for some kind of opinion for their gossip.

Not that she gave a rat's ass about either of those reasons or the girls.

But if there was one thing she was, it was observant and only when she put her mind to it. She knew that practically at the center of school were the four boys Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny, knew that the Goth kids were the ones to go to if you wanted to get "hooked up," and being a fun-loving but sarcastic bitch was just another cookie cutter cutout that many of the girls in the school claimed to be with a few exceptions.

She also knew about the would-be nutcase called Bain Cynis but she didn't even give him two shits worth of attention. He wasn't worth it, none of them were. So now that he was here, claiming to have "amnesia," she wanted nothing more than to take one of the thick law books her father owned and shove it right up his ass. This was a pathetic cry for attention. He just wanted people to feel sorry for him so that when their guards were down, he'd fuck them over in some way.

As her irritation grew with the girls beside her, she began to tap her fingers against her desk. Her fingers were crooked as if she was playing the piano, an instrument that she couldn't, for the life of her, play.

She glanced at the clock, reading from it that the next period was about to begin and that soon there would be some quiet. Not much, mind you, but quiet nonetheless. It was only about two seconds before the bell rang that Charlie White barged in, dragging a wretched-looking Bain Cynis behind her.

He looked like shit. And stank like it too. It was just so pathetic.

She heard snickering from Wendy and Ryleigh, both of them more than likely remembering what had led up to this new fashion statement. It seemed like Wendy was about to say something out loud, her mouth open in preparation, when there was a loud shrieking sound.

There was only one thing that sounded like that: the fire alarm.

Startled, like everybody else in the room was, DJ rolled her eyes at what she suspected was another drill. Just because it was warming up by one degree outside didn't mean the school had to find a reason to get them out of the building. Thoughts of a drill were soon vanquished when the water sprinklers on the ceiling activated and everyone soon became drenched.

Huh, looks like it wasn't another drill.

Noticing that her book was also wet pissed her off further. Swiping it up and trying to hide it away from the water, she swore she was going to find who was responsible for this and make them regret every being born.

* * *

Rhiannon was pissed off for two reasons. One was the fact that she was soaking wet and walking out into the usually freezing temperatures of South Park. The other reason was that she had no ride to get her home and out of the cold. There hadn't been any time to get buses here to pick anyone up so she was going to have to see if she couldn't mooch a ride off someone.

There had better be a good reason for this shit.

…and apparently there was because she could see a cloud of smoke drifting out from behind the school. So the school was really on fire, huh?

In her gut, she had a feeling that she already knew who was involved with this.

Not far from where she was freezing her ass off, she spotted a dry person, a sure sign that they hadn't been in the school when the sprinklers had come on. The words "Plays with Fire" were emblazoned on the back of a black hoodie, which currently had its red hood up on the person's head. She didn't need to see the tan skin or the dark brown going on black eyes or the hint of a flame tattoo peeking out from under the sleeves of the hoodie to know who it was.

Pyromaniac Chelsea Richey.

Moving not only to get closer but to warm herself a bit, Rhiannon approached the pyro from behind and said, "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this, would you?"

Chelsea spun around, staring at her almost as if she was contemplating on attacking her before relaxing, her eyelids drooping to give off a slacker aura around her and revealing the eyebrow piercing she had that had a flame design.

"Edwards, must you ask the obvious?" she drawled out. Looking to a side, she grunted out, "It was an accident, legit and everything, this time."

"I'm not going to ask," Rhiannon replied, sighing.

"Cool," Chelsea commented, scratching her nose and looking to a side, as if searching for anyone who might be looking for her.

"Just…can you give me a ride?" she asked.

"No can do," Chelsea replied. "Got my license suspended the other day. The damn gas station didn't have a damn "no smoking" sign up so how was I suppose to know?"

Recalling that recently a gas station had blown up, Rhiannon had to shake her head at that. Two fires this close together? Did Chelsea want to go back to juvie again? She was just asking for another two week sentence, three tops. Wait, wasn't she eighteen?

As if reading her mind, Chelsea said, "Got two hundred fucking hours of fucking community service. Blows man, blows."

"Blimey," Rhiannon swore under her breath. She was going to have to mooch off of someone else, it seemed.

"Gotta run 'fore I attract attention," Chelsea muttered. "See ya 'round."

Rhiannon didn't pay much attention as the pyro made her getaway. She was more preoccupied on how to get someplace warm.

Then she spotted a familiar car, recognizing it as Christophe's. She hadn't seen him all day but she wasn't about to complain about it if it meant the Sex God himself would be taking her home or better yet—

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing so as to get a better look. She could see that Christophe was leaning up against the hood of his car, an arm propping him up while his other hand was currently combing through the hair of a very girlish looking person on whom which a dark coat was draped on. Was he…? Could she be…? Oh hell no…

Was that sexy bastard flirting with someone behind her back?

She balled her hands tightly into fists, clenched her teeth tightly as she sought to keep control over her temper. She didn't want to jump to any conclusions though Christophe's track record was a bit spotty when it came to monogamy. Hold up, did his hand just lower itself behind that girl's back?

It was so on now…

She wasn't one to hold heartbreak in; in fact she took her motto of "you break my heart, I'll break your face" very seriously. Sadly, she hated to have to wreck that ruggedly handsome face of her favorite Sex God but she had principles, damn it, and she wasn't about to snag a Ben & Jerry's and hide out in her bathtub for the next couple of hours without shedding somebody's blood.

She was on the warpath, practically marching into the student parking lot and glaring daggers at the couple who were flaunting their familiarity with one another _right in fucking front of her_!

The glimpses of a Hello Kitty shirt and short black hair meant nothing to her and it was only when she was about ten feet away that the two noticed her presence. Christophe was giving her a questioning look, an eyebrow raised curiously as if wondering what it was that was setting her off this time while the girl with the (holy shit, it was Christophe's!) jacket gave her a megawatt smile that beamed sunshine and rainbows

"Hi Skittles!" the girl's feminine voice greeted though it had a trace of masculinity within it.

There was something odd about that girl but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Nevertheless, she opened her mouth, prepared to tear Christophe a new one in front of his new squeeze, only to be cut off by the screeching of rubber on pavement as a beige colored car sped into the parking lot, coming to a stop only a few feet away from Christophe's car.

From the driver's side door, a tall and broad shouldered guy burst out, his dark blue eyes wide with worry and a hint of fear, black hair somehow retaining it ruffled-up features as the guy became a blur, stopping at the girl's side and swiping her up in a large bearhug.

"Are you all right?" the guy exclaimed, setting the girl down and trailing his hands all around the girl frantically, as if searching for some kind of injury. The hands were quick, knocking off Christophe's jacket only to replace it with the one he was wearing. "Thank fucking Jesus," he swore, "I am never letting that asshole talk me into covering his damn morning shift again."

"I'm fine Miles," the girl said shyly, blushing under the other's scrutiny.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" Miles asked as if he hadn't heard the girl speak.

"Leo iz perfectly fine," Christophe stated dryly. "'E iz a team player, through an' through."

Wait…Leo? As in…? Oh Goddamn it, she had mistaken Leo for a girl again. Now that she was getting a better look, she could see that despite his girlish appearance, he was a boy in girl's clothing. The overprotective brother, as played to a T by Miles, was also a huge hint. She didn't see Miles that often but she knew that Christophe hung out with him every now and then, a couple times bringing her along.

She began to flush in embarrassment, hoping that none of them were picking up on it.

"Get in the car, Leo," Miles told/ordered the feminine boy, his eyes now trained on Christophe.

"Miles…" Leo whined to his elder brother.

"Just go," Miles said in a more demanding tone. Leo's shoulders slumped but he did as he was told anyway. Meanwhile, Miles and Christophe continued with their little stare-off, Rhiannon a silent witness to it. Finally, Miles nodded at Christophe, who reciprocated and turned cool eyes onto her for a moment, as if weighting her worth before turning away and heading back into his car, which he had left running this entire time.

Rhiannon overheard some snickering and when she turned her head, she could see Bebe and Kim chuckling with amusement as they watched the Mason brothers leave, Kyra standing by but watching more with concern than the other two.

Idly, she could hear the principal's Mexican accent in the distance, yelling and complaining about something as the flashing lights of firetrucks lit up the area.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist and her back was pressed up against a muscular torso. She blushed again, this time because her head was suddenly filled with rated X images.

"Somezing on your mind?" Christophe purred into her ear. "Somezing zat you wanted to beech at me about?"

"Fry an egg on my ass?" she blurted out, her face the color of a tomato by now.

Oh Blimey…

"Tempting, but I'll pass," Christophe chuckled into her ear. "But, I bet you zought I was cheateeng, weren't you?"

Busted. Fucking busted.

"Puke on my pants," she muttered, realizing only too late that she had babbled again. What was it about this Sex God that messed up her composure so?

"Later," Christophe replied as he released her, leaving her with this feeling of loneliness for a moment until she felt a coat being placed on her shoulders. "You were lucky zat I was close by to zee ze smoke. You would like to be going home now, yes?"

He was reading her mind, man. How could he still do that when he hadn't been showing up for class for the past two weeks? When he had left, he had only told that he was going to be out of town for a bit, for a mission she presumed. It wasn't one he would take her on, no matter how much she whined, begged, and threatened. Maybe she could pump him for information later…

Oh maybe she'd forget about it as long as he kept nibbling on her earlobe.

* * *

Bain was back at his "house," cold, wet, and still with his stained clothes on. He hadn't known what was going on and hadn't gotten it, even when Charlie had explained it to him. Even the sight of the smoke from the back of the school hadn't clued him in and he still didn't understand why they were being sent home because of fire.

And for some reason, he had the feeling that Charlie was getting frustrated at him. He didn't want to be a pain but she was the only one he trusted right now, trusted because everybody at school was giving him these looks that he couldn't figure out and his "family" as they claimed themselves to be didn't make themselves inviting enough.

Especially that "sister" of his. Seeing her sprawled out on the couch, watching something on the television set with a large bag of puff balls at her side, he felt the sensation of disgust bubbling within him. There was no explanation for why he felt like that but for once, he didn't really care. He was really beginning to get a hang of this apathy thing.

Damn it, he had to stop thinking of himself as a "he" and as "Bain." It was his identity now and he had to get used to it.

"What are you doing early?" came the demanding voice of his sister who's eyes hadn't left the television for a second.

He didn't answer, instead, walking towards the stairs so that he could as much space as he could between them.

"And where do you think you're going?" he heard her voice again, this time accompanying her face which was turned towards him. "I don't think mom or dad will be happy to hear that you're skipping," she smirked at him.

Unconsciously, he balled a hand into a fist.

"But, if you tidy my room up, I just may forget what time you came in," she said idly. "Oh, while you're at it, fetch me another bag of Cheezy Poofs from the kitchen. Well, what are you doing standing there?"

Turning away from the stairs, he trudged to the kitchen to get her her snack. As he headed for the pantry, a knife block holding of large kitchen knives caught his eye and he stopped, staring at the large wooden handles as if they were singing a siren's song to him. His fingers twitched and he blinked, as if coming out of a daze. Wasn't he here for something? Oh yes, Sierra's snack, right.

Retrieving the large, unopened bag, he reentered the living room and held the bag out to the girl who swapped it for her empty one. "Throw that away and get me something to drink."

He opened his mouth to protest, "But I just…"

"There should be a raspberry Snapple in the fridge," she sniffed at him. "Stop making me wait and get the fucking thing already."

Back into the kitchen he went, stopping at that knife block and looked at those handles. A thought came to him unbidden, one that said, "She deserves it." He shook his head, the image of him taking one of those knives and…he could hardly stomach it!

But the temptation remained however.

Opening the refrigerator, he grabbed the first bottled tea he saw, not caring if it wasn't the flavor Sierra wanted and returned to waiting on his sister, handing her the bottle and continuing to the stairs.

"Hey, this is peach, not raspberry!" he heard her complain.

Not stopping as he step a foot on the first stair, he said, "No raspberry," and continued up to his room. He heard nothing for a moment but ultimately, she shouted her reply at him.

"Don't forget to clean my room, twerp!"

Instead of shouting back a reply as he was wont to, he just sighed and passed by his bedroom, mentally preparing himself for the horror of what laid inside his sister's room. It was only when he was at her door that he paused and wondered why the hell was he going to go through with this? He wasn't in trouble and he wasn't skipping school since it had let him out itself. His parents shouldn't be mad at him for that.

Yet, why was he turning the doorknob and opening the door?

The sight of a cluttered girl's room came into sight, a large bed with canopy occupying a good amount of it and all sorts of clutter littering the room. There were wrappers, magazines, makeup supplies, pillows, dishes, everything you could imagine and right there was a single opened duffle bag that looked like it was spilling its guts out. There were posters of music bands and half nude male models on the walls and as his eyes scanned the room, they fell onto a large dresser that was topped by a large assortment of dolls.

He didn't like those glassy eyes, the way they looked so dead and right at you as well. It sent a shiver down his spine and he didn't remember what a spine was!

In comparison with his own, more sparse room, he noted that there was a lot more stuff in here, like Sierra owned double the amount he had in his room. It felt discomforting, especially since it implied that his parents liked her more than they did him. It was depressing…

He felt the temptation to go back to his room, ignore the state of Sierra's, and curl up on his bed and cry. Today hadn't been good as he was stared at and bullied at school only to receive similar treatment from his sister here.

Nevertheless, he found himself bending down and picking up some food wrappers. Why was he going to go through with this? Then again, what else could he do?

He had no past and therein lied the problem of what his future would be.

* * *

Charlie was tired, both physically and mentally. She hadn't known that it would be such a chore to babysit Bain, really she hadn't so when she finally got home, she practically collapsed bonelessly onto the couch, heedless that she was freezing her breasts off because her clothes were still wet from school.

Odds were great that in her near future she was going to be getting a cold. In some way, she kinda welcomed it since it would get her out of keeping an eye on Bain.

"Charlie? Charlotte! What do you think you're doing in wet clothes!" her mother exclaimed, walking in on her, probably wondering why she was hearing the sounds of thundering elephants so early in the day. "And why aren't you in school? Are you skipping again?"

"School let out early," she moaned, not getting up off the couch. "Fire. Too tired."

"At least take a warm bath," her mother protested. "Look, I'll go draw one while you get out of those things. I don't want you dampening the couch; it's not even a year old!"

Oh, that really put things into perspective. Thanks again Mom.

She had to admit, the bath did wonders for her, putting her to sleep for a few minutes. It was only minutes because her mother was checking up on her periodically to make sure she didn't drown and when she had found her, had waken her and gotten her out of the tub, drying her off while leading her to her room.

She felt so loved…

She must have been out of it because the next thing she knew, she was waking up in her bed, dressed only in a large shirt and some panties, something her mother probably slipped on while she had been dazed. The reason that she was waking up now instead of, you know, later was because Tammy was home and she was busy poking her and yelling in her ear.

"What?" she grunted as she lifted her head from her suspiciously wet pillow.

Tammy puffed her cheeks out, giving her that impatient look that all children gave to those who they thought were slow on the uptake. "Was he okay?" she half-asked, half-demanded.

She blinked lazily at her baby sister, wondering what the hell she was talking about. Seriously, who was okay and why was it imperative that Tammy need to know he was okay, whoever "he" was?

"Who?" she asked dully, trailing her fingers against the side of her head and feeling a slick sensation of skin.

"The nice boy from the pond!" Tammy asserted. "Is he okay?"

Was that a line of drool from her mouth? Yes, yes it was. Oh now she saw, she had drooled while she had been asleep and thus the wet pillow and everything and…wait…

She frowned. "Are you asking about Bain?"

Tammy nodded and repeated, "Is he okay?"

Oh, great, her sister was asking about the well being of a psychopath who had only a couple weeks ago had been trying to slit her fucking throat. Wait, Tammy only knew of the Bain who had helped her with her skates, thus the whole positive opinion about him. Damn, that boy sure knew how to mess with people's heads, didn't he? He couldn't remember shit and he was still causing her problems…

"Why do you want to know?" she asked wearily. "You barely even know him."

"But he's nice!" Tammy argued, stating her point as if that was the only opinion that mattered.

"You don't know him," Charlie said back.

"But he's nice!"

"You don't know him."

"But he's NICE!"

"Okay, okay, fine, he's nice," she grumbled. Noticing that her sister was probably about to ask her the question from before a third time, she hastily said, "Yeah, he's okay. Happy?"

"Can I see him?" Tammy asked excitedly.

Charlie stared at her sister blankly. "…what?"

"I want to see him," Tammy pouted.

Bain, if you ever get your memory back, your ass was grass.

"I don't know if he's up to it," she sighed, rubbing her head while simultaneously wiping away the drool from her face.

"But I like him!" Tammy complained.

"If you like him so much, why don't you marry him?" Charlie scoffed, tired of the subject.

"I will!" Tammy stated. Her eyes widened slightly as if the thought of what she had said finally hit her. "I will!" she sang happily. "We'll be together and everything and you'll be jealous! And he's gonna be the best ever! And we're going to have babies! Um, where do babies come from?"

Damn you Bain. Damn you to hell.

* * *

Chelsea Richey: **Psycho-Pyro-Maniac**

Miles Mason: **Luminescents**


	7. Scars Remind Us

Author's Note: In my way of a shameless advertisement, check out "Hell's Babysitter" by Zephyr Morpheus Lee, a.k.a. DefectCriminal. The author is in need of OCs and I've noticed the lack of reviews she has received. Since she is a friend, I'm going to put the shout out for her so if you are reading this, go check Hell's Babysitter out and help her out, eh?

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

Scars Remind Us

While the school assessed the damages from the fire that day, the students of South Park would be given a day off from school. That meant sleeping in late, getting drunk, finding the person who caused the fire and giving them a hell of a congratulations. That second one sounded wonderful but Kyle was more tempted to sit around in his sleepwear and chat online.

It was what, ten in the morning, his mom having called him down to breakfast ages ago, and here it was in his room, typing up a reply to a person he had met on the net a few months ago. He didn't know much about this _hellspawn666_ whom he chatted with almost every day but he had determined that it was a girl. Of course, this was just more ammo for Cartman to use (you know, the whole girlfriend in another country spiel) so he kept this electronic friendship/relationship on the down low. Not even Stan knew about it, it was that down low.

Plus it gave him a giddy feeling that he had a secret that no one else knew about.

There was a ping on his monitor and he hastily read the message that was sent to him, already planning out his reply. _hellspawn666_ was just telling him how lucky he was to not have to go to school, though how _hellspawn666_ was telling him this when she obviously was in school herself was a mystery. Still, he paid it no attention as he figured she might be on a school computer.

He was in the midst of writing down _Yeah, it's awesome_ when he got another ping, telling him that he had just received an e-mail. Wondering who it could be from, he took a break from replying to _hellspawn666_ to look into the e-mail, practically recognizing the address of who it was from almost immediately.

He frowned; why was Cartman of all people e-mailing him? What bullshit was it this time since he had put on for the subject _urgent_? This was a no school day and he had been planning on just spending the day with Stan and Kenny and maybe a couple other guys who were definitely not Cartman.

Without opening it, he went back to _hellspawn666_ and finished his reply to her. This was much more enjoyable anyway. While he was waiting for her reply, he got another e-mail, this time from Stan. Without a second thought, he opened it.

_Dude, what do you think Cartman wants?_

Oh great, Cartman was bugging other people. Sighing, he opened up the e-mail that Cartman had sent earlier and read it, raising an eyebrow when all it said was to come to his house naow and Jew you better not be a nagging Nancy.

Sighing, knowing that it would be foolish to resist the inevitable, he wrote back to Stan saying they might as well humor him and get this bullshit over with. Just as he sent the e-mail to his best friend, he received another e-mail from Cartman. Wary, he clicked on it and opened it.

_Jew, read my Goddamn message. I swear to Mel Gibson if you make this tough, I am going to kick your scrawny ass._

Slowly, he turned towards the window and narrowed his eyes, peering through the glass trying to spot anybody who might be watching him with binoculars. It wouldn't be the first time Cartman did that.

Quickly replying back to the fatass to stop stalking him and must he get another restraining order? This shit was old in the fourth grade and it was old (and illegal) now.

Going back to _hellspawn666_ and quickly reading the reply that had come from her, he wrote back, saying he had to do something and that he'd talk to her later that night. Logging off from his connection, he turned his swivel chair around and got up, heading towards the closet while mentally preparing himself for another day of bullshit.

* * *

The door to Cartman's basement opened and Stan and Kyle trudged in, their eyebrows raising as they same many of their classmates already there.

It was an all guy meeting, it seemed, as they immediately recognized Kenny who was waving at them lazily. Craig, Clyde, Token, Butters, Timmy, Brandon Smith, and that Mormon kid Gary rounded out the rest of the crew at the two friends sat themselves in two empty seats, shooting each other looks that spoke volumes to one another.

"So the two fags finally showed up," Cartman sneered, shutting the basement door with an arm full of snacks. "It's about time; were you too busy assraping each other or something?"

"Shut up fatass," Kyle snarled at him, standing up from his seat. Stan, sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, grabbing Kyle by lower arm and pulling him back down.

"Dude, don't encourage him, let's get this over with."

"Amen," Kenny agreed.

Cartman frowned at them, his frown deepening when he noticed that not everyone he had e-mailed had come or arrived.

"Where's that French piece of shit Mole and Tweek?" he demanded.

Craig flicked him off casually. "Unlike some people around here, Tweek has a job," he drawled.

"And why do you care if Christophe is here?" Kyle added, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Timmy!" Timmy piped up.

"Okay, okay, Jesus! You guys must be on your fucking periods or something," Cartman grumbled. He got several glares shot at him for that remark.

"Cartman, just tell us why you want us here," Stan spoke up. Like many others, he was not in the mood for the usual bullshit the fatass came up with.

"Fine, fine," Cartman grunted. "I swear you guys are getting more faggy every day. All right, the reason I have called all you here is because…" trailing off, he moved to an easel he had set up and flipped a large piece of paper he had on it. Beneath it was a portrait sized image of one Bain Cynis, the guy posed in a way that made it look like he was unaware of being photographed.

After a couple minutes of staring at this, it was Brandon who spoke up first. "Is there something you want to tell us about yourself, Cartman?"

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Cartman demanded.

"Fatass, it looks like you're stalking him," Kyle stated blandly. "Just look! He doesn't even know you're there!"

"It would explain why you're so focused with Kyle," Craig added with his nasally voice.

"Shut the fuck up you assholes!" Cartman roared. "I swear! I'm straight! Straighter than the fucking Tower of Pisa! Now shut your goddamn asshole mouths shut and listen to me!"

Silence. It wasn't because they were cowed, it was more like they didn't care.

"Naow, here's the deal," Cartman said, clearing his throat and straightening his back. "Right now," with a pointer stick in one hand, he smacked the tip of it against the picture, "the asshole there currently doesn't remember shit. This is the perfect chance to get back at him without fear of retaliation! Think about it! What horrible things do you wish to inflict on this son of a whore and not have to pay for it?"

"Aren't you also the son of a whore?" Kyle pointed out.

"Shut up Kahl!" Cartman growled.

"So it's true?" Brandon asked, sitting up straighter and leaning in closer. "Cartman's mom is a whore?"

"Fuck you asshole!" Cartman yelled. Pausing as he thought of something, he added, "And don't you fucking get near my mom! That goes double for you Kenneh!"

"Too late," Kenny grinned lazily.

"Why you—I'll keel you Kenneh!" Cartman howled as he threw himself at the blond.

Kenny adeptly slid out of his seat and danced away from the fat teen, laughing merrily as he placed himself behind the Mormon kid. As Cartman tried to go after him, Stan and Kyle blocked his way, grabbing his arms and holding him back.

"Goddamn it Cartman!" Stan shouted. "Don't kill Kenny!"

"Sit down you bastard!" Kyle growled in agreement.

Heaving, his face red, Cartman slowly got a hold of himself though he still leveled a deadly glare at Kenny who only laughed and rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Alright, I'm cool. I'm fine."

"Not as fine as me," Token chuckled.

"Timmy!" Timmy agreed.

Growling under his breath, Cartman glared at all of them and demanded, "Ey! Don't you guys wanna get back at that shortass piece of shit or not? Honestly! Gawd!"

"Get back at him for what?" Craig asked. "It's not like he's done anything to us. Just the girls."

"Oh, did you forget about something?" Cartman hinted. "Clyde, you should remember," he said, turning towards the brunet jock who blinked dumbly at him, "I mean, he was the one that practically gored you, didn't he?"

Clyde stared back at him, almost cluelessly except that he slowly nodded, acknowledging that such a thing had indeed happened. His hand reflexively hovered over his stomach, as if remembering everything from that suggested incident.

Craig was frowning though. "Why'd you have to bring that up?" he demanded. "And where did you even hear about it?" he continued, narrowing his eyes.

"I have my ways," Cartman said glibly.

"Like with that picture?" Brandon asked, gesturing towards the portrait of Bain.

"Yes like the fucking picture asshole," Cartman said, annoyed. "But, c'mon guys! Kenneh! Remember that time you stepped in that water puddle that had conspicuously been placed there and then got electrocuted in it?"

"Fatass, I've been electrocuted a lot of times," Kenny complained. "And he's done it twice, thank you very much," he said stiffly.

"Wasn't he trying to get one of the girls?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah, once for Wendy in middle school," Stan confirmed, his eyes raised to the ceiling as he thought about it. "And I think the other time as for Skittles, you know, when she and the Mole were on the outs?"

"I don't think he ever got over her kissing him," Clyde grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, and who was it that sabotaged that Valentine's Day play some of the girls set up?" Cartman continued, fanning the flames more.

"Bain," they all said simultaneously.

"And who poured all that menstruating fluids on all the Hanukkah decoration?" Cartman asked.

"That was you, Fatass," Kyle gritted out, glaring at him.

"Okay, what about the time he tried to cut off your nose and call it a nose job?" Cartman switched to a different incident.

"That was you again," Kyle corrected.

"Whatever," Cartman rolled his eyes, "and what about that time he ambushed you and tried to trap you in a walk-in refrigerator?"

"Gee, wasn't that you Eric?" Butters asked. "Yeah, it was about the time we found out Kyle was part New Jersey."

"Shut up Butters," Cartman muttered.

"Cartman, half the stuff you're going to try to mention you did," Kyle huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Cartman stared at Kyle for a minute, silently. "Why do you have to be so negative all the time Kyle?" he asked. "I thought I told you not to be a negative Nancy! Was I asking too much of your Jew brain, huh? What about that did you not understand?"

Kyle's nostrils flared and he looked as if he was about to lunge at the fatass. Stan held him back, though, with a hand strategically placed on his shoulder. "He's baiting you Kyle, just ignore him."

Watching this curiously, Brandon tilted his head to a side and asked, "Are you sure you two aren't gay?"

"Fuck off!" both Stan and Kyle shouted at Brandon, their ire finding a new target in him.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch, that's all I'm hearing from you two," Cartman cut in effortlessly. "You two can ass rape each other later. Now we plot to make this asshole's," his hand smacking against the portrait of Bain, "life a living hell. Any suggestions? Anybody?"

"Timmy!" Timmy said helpfully.

"Why plan shit ahead of time?" Craig asked. "I'd rather play it by ear; more traumatizing that way."

"You see guys," Cartman said, looking straight at both Stan and Kyle. "Even _Craig_ is getting involved."

"Fuck you," Craig drawled.

"Why don't you guys just leave him alone?"

Cartman tensed up. "Okay, who fucking said that?"

"You've already forgotten about me, huh? I don't see why you invited me here in the first place." The boys' attention was soon drawn towards Gary the Mormon kid whom they all had forgotten was there with them. Instead of the welcoming and friendly expression he was typically seen with, frowning at them all with disapproval like they were little kids throwing rocks at some stray animal.

"Ey! What the hell are you doing here pussy boy?" Cartman demanded. "Aren't you suppose to be getting your face painted at the fire department or something?"

Gary stood, showing his impressive height as he towered over all of them easily. To say Butters was intimidated was an understatement.

"Well, gee, I'm sorry Gary but Eric does kinda have a point," Butters said nervously.

"Leave me out of this," Gary said gruffly. "You guys haven't changed since the fourth grade. Go fuck yourselves and suck my balls, assholes, I'm outta here." With that, Gary marched up the stairs and out of the basement, though they could all hear him greet Cartman's mom cheerfully before the door closed behind him.

"Dude…" Cartman said.

"That's the second time he's told me to suck his balls," Stan moaned, face planted in his hands.

"Wait, did we just get pwned by that fucking Mormon kid?" Cartman asked incredulously. "I could see that happening to Stan and Kyle but seriously people!" He ignored the two glaring boys as he continued. "Forget about him! We have better things to do anyway. Now, I'm thinking about taking over the announcements and broadcasting to everyone just how gay Bain is? Is anybody with me? Anybody?"

* * *

Charlie groaned as she massaged her temples, laying sprawled out on her bed. Downstairs was the source of her latest headache and surprise surprise, it was in the form of a small boy in a black trenchcoat. Yes, she had woken up at about noon or so and had gone downstairs only to find Bain there with Tammy practically attached at the hip.

According to her mother, she found out that Bain had been dropped off there at his request; further inquiry with Bain revealed that he was trying to stay as far away from his sister as possible but he hadn't known who else to go to other than her.

At least, that was what she had gotten out of him before Tammy had gotten possessive and situated herself between them. The last thing Charlie had seen of Bain, Tammy was having him sit around with a few of her stuffed animals and a bonnet on his head while Tammy held a tea party.

The Bain she was used to wouldn't have been caught dead in her house. The Bain she knew wouldn't let a girl younger three times younger than him boss him around. Heck, the Bain she knew would have that innocent look about him either.

It seemed like all her headaches were becoming Bain related.

She didn't have Stella around as her sister was currently at a friend's house and she herself wasn't in the mood to be outside or hanging around with someone. Plus Christophe wasn't answering his phone so she didn't have anyone she could go out and dig holes with.

How much longer was she going to have to put up with this? She didn't have that much patience to begin with so as you could imagine, she was on the verge of snapping.

Huffing, she let her arms flop down on the bed and she stared blearily at the ceiling as if it held all the answers to the mysteries of life. Those answers weren't forthcoming though so she was left just staring and doing absolutely shit.

Why did all this shit have to end up in her lap? Wasn't it enough that she had to kill her psychotic older brother before he killed her, witnessed the gruesome death of her father, moving all the way around the world and back, and put up with all the shit that a sociopathic asshole could throw at her? Now she had to babysit said sociopathic asshole who had reverted back to having the mindset of a fucking grade schooler? And put up with her youngest sister having a crush on him to boot?

It just wasn't fair that she had to deal with it all.

Shouldn't some other people have to deal with it? You know, like the usual suspects Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny? They were always dealing with the weird shit that happened in this town.

She felt that she wasn't obligated to deal with Bain, not now. He deserved everything that was coming to him; she shouldn't have to act like a human shield for him. Why wait though? Come school, all she'd have to do was ditch him. It'd be so simple, she only had to look away and pretend something else had her attention.

But was that really her? Could she abandon the guy in his time of need? If it had been anyone else, she would have said hell yes and left them to the wolves. Why was Bain different? He had tried to make a living hell out of her life, tormented her and when he was in the mood, go for those close to her. Admittedly, she wasn't that close to Rhiannon, but it was the fact that it affected Christophe so much whenever he went after Skittles that made the whole thing all that more personal.

So yeah, in one hand she had all the people who she cared for, who meant something to her and on the other hand there was Bain. They were as different as night and day, these things that Charlie held dear. The one commonality they had was that she was unwilling to let either of them go.

Speaking of not letting go, she held open the palm of her hand and stared into the scar that crossed it. A memento of her first meeting with Bain. Oh yes, she had scars aplenty all over her body and she took care to make sure nobody focused on them. It was more out of selfishness, but not the kind you'd think it was. Each scar had a story to them and she wanted to keep each story for herself. But just by seeing the scars, others would ask about them. Where'd she get them? How'd she get them?

Thus she hid them so that the questions wouldn't be asked and she wouldn't part with the stories, the memories that were dear to her as well as grotesque in some cases. But they were things that couldn't be taken from her, things she could take with her wherever she went and not have to leave behind because she couldn't carry them in her arms.

Maybe that was why she couldn't let go of Bain. Whether it was an accident or fate, or whatever Disney bullshit it was, he had left his mark on her and it was one that would always be visible. And because of that, no one asked questions about it, not one rumor or bit of gossip ever reached her ears. Either everybody knew about it or they assumed they knew the truth.

She clenched her hand into a fist, hiding away the scar from all sight.

* * *

"No freaking way!" Brianna gasped into her phone. "I can't believe I wasn't there to see it!"

"I bet you do," Ryleigh chuckled back. "You and Kim don't get along well, do you?"

"She hangs out with Bebe," Brianna defended. "I know sure as hell you don't like Bebe either."

"Can't argue there," Ryleigh laughed. "But seriously, has there ever been anything that happened to you that involved that guy?"

"He's mainly stayed away from me," Brianna shrugged, rolling her eyes to herself when she remembered that Ryleigh couldn't see her. "I know for a fact that he and Cartman hate each other and this is like on a scale of Kyle and Cartman hating each other. But now that I think about it, I did have some problems with my bedroom window being broken. It happened like once a week or so then stopped. Never did find out who did it but I think that guy was responsible or somehow involved."

"Jeez, he's like a bully or something," Ryleigh said idly.

"Except for not talking to anybody," Brianna agreed. "That Bain kid is seriously messed up."

"Yeah, well, anyway, I hear something's going to go down at school," Ryleigh said. "I heard from Leo who heard from Tweek who talked to Craig that some of the guys are up to something. And I've heard from Wendy that she wants in on it."

"No way!" Brianna exclaimed.

"Way," Ryleigh confirmed. "It sounds like somebody around here is going to be getting back at Bain for all the shit he's pulled. I mean, it looks bad that it's going to be done on a guy with amnesia but that DJ girl says he's faking it so he kinda does deserve it."

"Fuckin' A," Brianna agreed, rolling onto her back and relaxing into her bed. "You know, I might ask Cartman about it, maybe see what I can do to help." She smirked, thinking of the possibilities that she would be able to hang around her crush. It made her feel a bit giddy.

"The fatass would be involved. I heard that he's the one putting it all together," Ryleigh scoffed.

Brianna frowned at that. "Hey, don't call him a fatass. He's just obese. It's a medical condition." Hey, she needed to get into practice defending her future boyfriend. Sure he had a lot of flaws but hey, you couldn't help who you were attracted to.

"Whatever you say," Ryleigh replied. "Hey, you wanna go out somewhere? I'll ask Wendy if she wants to come with, maybe Skittles and Leo too."

"Why do you like that Leo kid so much?" she asked.

"I don't know," Ryleigh answered, the puzzlement audible in her voice. "Maybe it's because he has a huge sense of fashion. He looks more like a girl than a girl does! Plus he's so nice and sensitive."

"Whatever," Brianna interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Just call me back when you have something set up. If you don't, I'll be more than happy to sit on my ass all day."

* * *

With the setting of the sun, Bain knew that he would have to go back home. He didn't want to but had little choice; he was getting the feeling that Charlie wasn't enjoying his company. Tammy, though, was so nice to him, even played with him even though he didn't understand half the stuff she wanted him to do.

But now he was returning to the company of one female he didn't enjoy. He recognized her car still sitting in the driveway and he wondered if she should be somewhere else. She hadn't been there when he had first come home nor had she visited him in the hospital.

Maybe he could hide for a bit?

It sounded like a good idea as any and he entered the house as quietly as he could. Hearing the sounds of the television, he kept himself from going into the family room his eyes darting every which way until they landed upon an unsuspecting door.

It would have to do.

He was quick and the next thing he knew, he was going down a set of stairs to a level of the house he had never been in. What was this called? A cellar? With the door shut firmly behind him, he made his way to this new section of the house, his eyebrows lifting as he saw what was like an entirely different room. There were chairs and a couch set up, though no television and if he tilted his head just so, he could see a toilet peeking out through a doorway.

Huh, why didn't he stay here? At least Sierra wouldn't think to look for him down here.

He began inspecting the place, poking around the furniture and the large boxes that were stacked against the wall. Peering into one of the boxes, he had to change his idea of what this room was; was a living space as well as storage? How come none of the rooms upstairs were like this?

It was such a pressing question.

Idly, he came upon a large blanket and his curiosity was piqued, wondering what it could be that was under it. Without a care, he picked the blanket up and stared at a series of jugs that had been resting beneath it.

Picking one up, and grunting slightly because of the weight of it. _What was it?_ he wondered, reading what looked to be a label of some sort. Polypropylene? What was that? Setting the jug down, he picked up another one at random, noticing the same word from the first one. Picking through the jugs, he found a different label, one that had the word coolant instead of polypropylene.

What was this stuff? Why did his family have it? None of it was making any sense.

He tensed as he heard the door at the top of the stairs open, his heart thundering in his ribcage.

"Bain? Sweetie? Are you down here?"

Oh, it was just his mother. He calmed down somewhat but knew that his sister was still up there, waiting for him. He replaced the blanket on the jugs and made his way to the stairs where his mother had closed the door on him, thinking that he wasn't down here. While he could stay down here, he knew that he was being looked for and that he stood a better chance with his mother than his sister.

Hmm, where was his father again? He hadn't seen that person in a long time…


	8. Creeps

Author's Note: Remember the Principal? He's back along with you OCs and some subplots. Let's see if I can't keep up with them all this time around, eh? Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

Creeps

Alright. Alright, alright, alright!

Principal Estrada had gone over the damages to the school and had determined, over the objection of the superintendent and their insurance representative, that the building was safe to hold classes again. On Monday, of course.

Hey, his paycheck was on the line here, what did you expect?

However, the main reason that he had declared for classes to resume was the fact that he had found out that none of the security cameras installed throughout the school had been harmed and wiring was still intact. He could still spy on all the students without them being the wiser.

He loved his job.

After double checking that all his cameras in the girls' locker room were still operational, he reclined in his chair, hands pillowing his head as he spun his seat around.

Life was good.

* * *

He had first been confused when he was told he didn't have to go to school, his mother mentioning something about it being the weekend. He…Bain didn't understand the logic of it, what a weekend was and the schedule of school being what it was and all.

So, come Monday, he found himself back at the school and experiencing a sense of dread about it. Charlie hadn't been there to walk him to the bus he was suppose to ride and he had ended up walking all the way here because he didn't know the bus schedule either. When the bus drove past him, he felt something wet and heavy hit him in the back, followed by muffled laughter from within the bus. He spun around, trying to find what had hit him only to slip and fall onto his rear.

The beige coat his mother had forced on him had absorbed much of the dampness but he still felt the chill of the low temperatures that surrounded him. Unsuccessful at finding what had hit him, he had given up and headed towards the school once more, apprehensive of just what waited for him.

The looks he had received in the front of the building weren't comforting. He could see two of the boys who had dumped him into the trashcan at the entrance, Clyde and Token he thought their names were. Yeah, Token was the one with the dark skin, right? Those green jackets they were wearing were practically identical from where he stood and they looked very much like the one that Stan, or was it Kyle, guy had been wearing.

Instead of going into the school, possibly having to go past those two, he decided to wait a while and hope Charlie showed up soon.

She didn't, at least, not before someone else did.

"Ooh, what'cha waitin' for?" the condescending, accented voice of a very large person asked from behind. A fat hand settled itself on his head and he felt a spark of irritation at it, not understanding why he felt so. "Looking for your girlfriend?"

It was Cartman, he could recognize him by the sound of his voice easily.

He swallowed but made no attempt to say anything, eyes darting from side to side as he searched for Charlie, wherever she may be.

He let out a shriek as something cold was shoved down his shirt and pressed against his unprepared skin. He tore off his jacket and untucked the button-up long sleeve he had to wear, trying to slip out what was a ball of mushy snow from his clothed barrier against the cold.

Just as he managed to get the snow out, he was shoved to the ground, the soundtrack of Cartman laughing at him playing in the background. He sniffed, shutting his eyes so that tears didn't escape and possibly egg this tormentor forward. It was a stretch of logic that he didn't want this to continue.

He heard Cartman squawk behind him and then someone pull him roughly to his feet. Nervously, he turned his head to see Charlie there, not looking pleased at all. He couldn't tell whether her ire was aimed at him or at Cartman but didn't want to risk it and find out. Maybe she was peeved at him and he didn't know it…

"What are you, his bodyguard?" Cartman demanded.

"With you around, maybe I should be," she snapped back. Shoving his discard coat into his hands, she grabbed one of his arms and began dragging him into the school. "You need to start sticking up for yourself," she grumbled and he said nothing, just looked down at his feet. She was more than likely right but how did one go about sticking up for themselves? He didn't know and could only hope someone would teach him.

However, if he thought that what had happened now would be the worst he had to deal with, he was sorely mistaken. It continued into the first period with that Garrison person who periodically gave him these looks. It wasn't Garrison, though, who made it an uncomfortable experience but the fact that someone had smeared superglue onto his seat. His coat had been long enough that it was the only think stuck when he tried to get out of his seat when the bell rang.

He had been surprised when it felt like he was being yanked backwards. Despite the snickering he heard, he had tried to stand up again, this time more slowly, and that was when he discovered that something was up. Charlie was frowning at him, waiting impatiently for him to get up and he looked up at her helplessly.

"What is it?" she grunted.

"My…coat is stuck," he mumbled quietly back.

She frowned back at him. "Speak up."

"My coat…" he repeated, tugging on the cloth to demonstrate the problem.

"Christ," Charlie rolled her eyes. "You have to find this out now when class is over?"

"Sorry…" he mumbled, looking down and trying to shrink in on himself.

"What's the matter, dipshit?" Garrison spoke up from his desk, looking irritated. "Can figure out how to stand up? What a retard."

He blinked his eyes, trying to keep the tears from leaking out.

"Take it off," Charlie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Doing so, he stood beside her and waited for what to do next. Not saying anything, Charlie grabbed the coat and pulled on it with all her strength. There was a slight ripping sound but the result remained that his coat was no longer stuck to the chair, though strips of it could be seen glued to the chair.

Before he or anyone else could say anything, Charlie was pulling him out of the class and to second period.

When they arrived, Charlie pulled him towards where she sat and stopped in front of the one known as Kenny. "Move," she ordered, no humor in her voice.

"C'mon Lottery Ticket," Kenny whined up to her. "Didn't we go over this already?"

"Listen," she said, her voice lowering ominously. "Either you get up and sit somewhere else or I fucking burn your skin off with a lit cigarette."

"Is…is that even possible?" Kenny asked slowly though his eyes had widened slightly.

"Stay seated and find out," she suggested.

Looking away, Bain noticed that the Pip boy was not here but where he had last sat down in this class, he noticed a bunch of thumbtacks set up, just waiting for slip into someone's posterior. He wondered if Charlie had noticed it and if this was why she was haggling over Kenny's seat?

Turning back to Charlie and Kenny, he saw that she was, literally, twisting the blond's ear off, Kenny squirming in his seat until finally yelping, "Okay! Okay! I'll move! Jeez!"

Charlie grunted and watched the blond like a hawk until he stood up and left. Then, grabbing his arm again, she pulled him down into Kenny's seat while taking hers as well, just as the bell rang. The teacher had yet to show up and maybe this was why but he could swear he heard kissing noises being directed at him. For some reason, it was irritated him more than the snow or the glue.

He winced at the familiar sensation of a spit ball slapping against the back of the head but as it turned out, Charlie had been looking at him at the time and had seen it happen. She threw a threatening glare to everyone who sat behind them and some of the whispered voices stilled.

He could almost feel the fear radiating from behind him.

Soon enough, second period was over and he emerged with only a few more spitballs in his hair but he wasn't going to complain. At least it wasn't as bad as the last time.

As he followed after Charlie to third period, he could hear the whispers in their wake. He only caught a few words but they were quickly forgotten as if they were insubstantial. Still, he was starting to get a headache from it.

Just as the bell for third period rang, he found to his dismay that Charlie was called to the office. The teacher insisted that Charlie go alone and that she should be back in no time. Charlie looked at the teacher and then a few of the students suspiciously before finally shrugging and leaving Bain in the lion's den.

From the looks he was now being given, that might as well have been literal.

* * *

Rhiannon sighed, head propped up on her hand, supported by her elbow, and looking for all the world like a lovelorn fool. Poetic sounding, yes, but it only sounded marvey in her own head.

She snuck a peek at Leo, who once again looked more like a girl than did any of the actual girls in the school did. She didn't like this feeling, this sensation that felt like jealousy but at the same time also felt like dread and worry. She wasn't able to tell the difference which was which but she currently wasn't in the mood to figure it out.

Was it because she had seen him beside Christophe? She had heard rumors that the boy had a crush on _her_ boyfriend and the way she had seen her Sex God interact with the femboy, well, it made her insecure. It wasn't like she had a perfect relationship with Christophe; they had had arguments and falling outs before. Break ups once in a blue moon.

But what did she have to feel insecure about? Christophe was with _her_, not _Leo_. The Sex God couldn't be gay, could he? He behaved like every other straight guy did: you know, the obsession with pussy, fear of commitment, had problems cleaning up after himself. You know, the usual stuff.

And yet she didn't feel confident in this. Whenever they had broken up before, it had usually been caused by her having a suspicion of infidelity on his end. However, even if they did break up, she never got together with someone else, despite a few offers she had had. It was like once you had the Sex God, there was no going back. Christ, it was almost as if they were like Stan and Wendy in their early days.

Fabbity. Just fabbity.

Trying to take her mind off of Leo, she turned her gaze to someone else, anybody that would distract her. She could see Bebe texting madly, her phone cleverly hidden under her desk but close to her lap. The blonde was snickering about something, what about, Rhiannon didn't know. It piqued her interest but there was no way she could just blurt out what was amusing Bebe so greatly and not attract the attention of Garrison who was going about all the reasons why the girl in Charlie Sheen's bathroom is indeed a ****** and not a porn star and how he was still a sexy beast.

Yeah, it would be best if she just tuned that out for now.

She could see Bebe was trying to stifle her laughter but practically cramming her fist into her mouth and that served to annoy the hell out of her. What the hell was so funny anyway? It wasn't right that she had to be out of the loop.

The last time that had happened, she had broken up with Christophe and been abducted by Bain who had been waiting for such an occasion. Instead of her ex-boyfriend or Charlie coming to her rescue this time, she was saved by the sudden appearance of Mysterion. Wicked, you know? Things got weirder, though, when Charlie did arrive and come to _Bain's_ aid, saying that the only one who could kick his ass was her even though the most Bain got out of that scuffle was a black eye and a couple bruised ribs.

Ah, memories…

Now that she thought about it, though, Bain hadn't come after her in a long time. Even before the amnesia that that one DJ girl claimed was fake, it was as if he had forgotten about her. Not that she wanted to live in fear that she could be killed at anytime, especially when she was vulnerable, but her fear was turning more into paranoia.

And she knew that no one was after her, especially since the only person who did didn't even remember it.

So now her only pressing concerns was a hypothetical but tenuous at best relationship between Christophe and Leo and what the hell Bebe Stevens was laughing about?

Oh Blimey, things had gone downhill, hadn't they?

* * *

Charlie was unamused as she stared blankly at Principal Estrada who was only beaming that stupid smile of his at her. He had called her into his office about causing some damage to school property and when she had demanded to know what the hell he was talking about, he gestured to a desk that had strips of a beige fabric on it that had been placed in the office as if it had always been there.

It took her a moment to recognize that it was the same desk that Bain had sat on in first period. And he was trying to pin this onto her with a flimsy excuse of damage to school property?

Oh hell to the naw!

"You can't be fucking serious," she deadpanned. "That is in no way my fault. If it's somebody's then it the asshole who put glue on it in the first place!"

"But _Senorita_, we cannot find anyone," Principal Estrada said pleasantly, his accent so very heavy that Charlie almost misheard him. "But, eet eez custom in America to blame someone, _si_? Now, if you could find someone who eez responsible, zeen I think we can work sometheeng out."

"Look pal," she said darkly, firmly placing her hands on the principal's desk and leaning over it menacingly. "I am not in the mood for this shit so either drop it or I fucking report you to the INS. I know for a fucking fact that you are not in this country legally so drop all this holier than thou bullshit or whatever power trip you happen to be on."

"You zeem to forgeet just who has access to ze grades, _Senorita_," Principal Estrada replied as if he hadn't heard her. "Sure, accuse me, but I can fuck your grades up badly, _poco niña_. Don't think I won't."

"Blackmail? Goddamn you are low," she scorned. "You think I give a fuck about my grades?"

"E'eryone does," Principal Estrada said, still looking infuriatingly unruffled. "Beesides, we both know about your mother, _si_. She would keel you if you flunk out."

Okay, that was true. What was this asshole's game anyway?

"But…" he continued, pausing dramatically for a moment, "…I might let thees slip my mind if you do sometheeng."

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"Stay away from the Cynis _niño_," Principal Estrada stated, suddenly no longer sounding so pleasant anymore. In fact, she had never seen him so serious before. "The _niño_, he needs to learn how to swim, _si_?"

There was something else there, something that she picked up on almost immediately. "You have something against him?" she demanded.

"A lesson must be learn, _niña_," Principal Estrada shrugged. "Too long he has gone unpunished. Think of eet as payback."

"You're sick," she stated. "I don't know where you get off but this is sick. He doesn't remember shit! You can't fucking take advantage of him like this!"

"I can and I weel," Principal Estrada stated. "Did you know he passed that assessment with flyeeng colors? He should be een the next year, not thees one. He's made a fool of me for too long, _Senorita_ White. I'm not about to let him graduate before I can get back at him, no?"

"That's sad," she stated. "You're holding a grudge against a kid who literally doesn't know anything."

"Oh, but he does know sometheeng," Principal Estrada said. "How else would he have passed that assessment, hmm? No _Senorita_, if this opportunity is not used, theen _Senor_ Cynis weel go unpunished. Do you know how many headaches he has given me? And eef he does get his memory back, he weel remember what happened and eet weel keep him from pulling anymore of his sheet in the future, _si_.

"But you _Senorita_ White, you are standeng in the way. We cannot have that anymore. Stay away from the Cynis boy or you'll know what I'll do."

She wanted to threaten him, tell him that she was going to rip his spine out or something along those lines but at the same time, she knew she couldn't. He still had some weight in the South Park Independent School District, despite his illegal status. That and who would believe her if she accused him of fucking up her grades? Many of the teachers around him followed him like loyal lapdogs, Garrison being an exception since he hated all Mexicans. And then there was her history of disrespecting the teachers so that also went against her.

There were probably some other things she could think of but she knew that she couldn't do what this man wanted her to do. Bain didn't know how to defend himself anymore. The kids here would eat him alive if they hadn't done so already. Oh shit, she had left him alone!

"Have it your way," she grumbled as she tried to nonchalantly leave the office. She wasn't necessarily saying she was going to do what he wanted her to do but neither was she saying she wasn't.

"I'm glad you see eet my way," Principal Estrada commented. "You may go now, _poco niña_. Stop by at the receptionist's desk and geet a hall pass before you go."

She really didn't like this creep.

* * *

Kyra was uncomfortable with what was going on yet she did nothing to stop it. She didn't participate as her friends and classmates heckled Bain Cynis who just sat in his seat and look imploringly at anybody who would stand up for him.

It wasn't that she didn't want to help him, she did; it was just that she didn't want to have her friends turn against her and ostracize her as well. Her self-esteem was low as it was, she didn't need to subtract anymore from it than what her own insecurity had.

She flinched away as she saw Kim casually walk up behind the besieged boy and she watched as she all so carelessly dumped a bottle of that tacky white paste called glue onto Bain's head. She tried to block out the sounds of the others laughing, someone going as far to high five Kim who was back at her desk, stealthily texting under her desk.

It wasn't as if Kim had anything to be afraid of; the teacher was laughing her ass off as well and not doing a single thing to help Bain no matter how much he looked pleadingly at her.

Once or twice, Kyra felt a spark in her chest, as is she was about to stand up and come to the boy's aid but ultimately she remained seated, fuming for the boy who couldn't understand why this was happening to him.

It was a godsend when the bell rang and Charlie finally came back. One could tell that she was pissed when she caught sight of Bain and was dragging him out of the classroom, most likely to find a place to clean him up or something. Kyra made a half-assed attempt to follow and perhaps offer to help but was dissuaded when she saw Charlie deck someone who laughed at Bain.

Despite being a "goody two-shoes," there was no way Kyra was going to risk getting a broken nose just for trying to help.

She tensed up as she heard a voice that she heard constantly in her dreams speak behind her. While the words the voice spoke weren't directed at her, that didn't mean that she didn't listen.

"Wow, what do you think crawled up Charlie's ass?" Stan Marsh, her secret crush asked.

"Probably has to do with him," Kyle Broflovski replied, shrugging.

"Wonder why she's going all Mama Bear on him," Stan said. "I thought they hated each other."

Okay, handsome or not, even Kyra had her limits. Since none of the people she hung out with were around, she let herself go off at the person whom she dreamed of dating while simultaneously knowingly damaging any chance she might have had of hooking up with him.

"He has amnesia! He doesn't remember anything!" she snapped at the two boys who jumped and stared at her in shock, more than likely not noticing that she had been there. "You've got to be a real asshole to pick on a kid who doesn't remember their first day of school, much less the people they hate! What you guys are doing is so wrong on so many levels."

With that, she spun on her heel and stomped off to her next class, not bothering to fret about doing something that was kind of out of character for her. It wouldn't be until later that night when she would be playing Halo Reach online that she would worry about what she had just done but she was not in the mood to play Ms. Nice Girl right now.

Right now, she was thinking if maybe she should get some new friends.

* * *

By the time lunch came around, Charlie felt as if her head was going to explode. First the shit with Principal Estrada and then trying to protect and clean up Bain was really starting to take its toll on her and she wasn't a patient person by nature. Sure, she could exercise it but just because she could didn't mean she liked to.

She needed a smoke, badly, and she didn't trust leaving Bain all alone in the cafeteria again. No sense in repeating that trash can episode again. So she dragged him out back with her after questioning him if he was hungry. After getting the negative, here they both were, Charlie puffing out a nasty cloud of nicotine and rat poison and not giving a shit if her lungs were going to hell, Bain standing right beside her uncomfortably.

Now, they weren't out here alone, if you were wondering. No, they had some company in the form of the Goth kids. Since they weren't "conformists," she figured they wouldn't pick on Bain. It wasn't like he had associated with them before his amnesia so they had to be safe.

That and they were the ones who lent her the cigarette she was using. At least they had good tastes and bought locally. Plus, she figured that they were alright to leave Bain with. Out of the five of them, it was the Asian Goth that she figured would get along with Bain the best.

Kuran Montri, at least that what she knew him as, was a short guy, as were all Asian, with hair so dark that it looked black until light hit it revealing it to be more of a brown. Sticking from the left side of his head was an electric blue dyed strand, sticking out from his half messy bedhead hairdo, a contrast to the neatly combed other half. His golden brown eyes were certainly a sight as they had a kind of melancholy to them that spoke of tragedy. It added to this aura around him that made him look like the most depressed person you ever met.

Maybe that was why he was usually seen with the tall Goth with curly and the averaged sized Goth with red streaks, the two at his side like a pair of gargoyles. She suspected that there might be a threesome going on between them but she had yet to confirm it.

It was probably most likely since a gay threesome is so "non-conformist."

However, Bain was staying away from the Goths, eyeing them like they were rabid beasts about to attack him and to be honest, she didn't blame him.

"Dude, like, chill out," the red streaked Goth suddenly spoke. It took a moment for Charlie to realize he was speaking to Bain, not her. "You're acting like a crack addict going cold turkey, man."

"Have a smoke," Henrietta, a chubby girl in a slutty black dress continued. "Don't just stand there acting like that Tweek conformist guy."

Bain shook his head and looked to a side.

Henrietta shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"There is no need to pressure him," Kuran softly spoke up from where he sat, his back against the school while he doodled in a sketchbook. "He does not have to conform with us and feel like he has to do what we do."

Red Goth smirked, not looking down at Kuran though one of his hands ruffled up the smaller boy's head. "That's our little non-conformist."

Kuran's cheeks pinkened at the comment but he said nothing else.

Charlie took her eyes off the scene since it was starting to get a little mushy for her. She blew out a puff of smoke, her eyes trailing over to where Bain was. He still looked on edge and she felt a little sorry for him.

It hit her then just how much she hated this situation. She was more stressed out now than when Bain was an asshole and trying to kill her or fuck her mind up. And why was her who had to deal with it? She hadn't been the one to step out onto the pond, hadn't been the one to crack the ice or had him try and attack her even though a rational person would have gotten off the pond first.

It all led up to Bain being uncharacteristically stupid and she was the one who was paying for it. For once, she had actually thought that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to have some form of a normal life, if only for a few days. Hadn't she suffered enough? First cancer, then Jack, then Bain; what else was out there that could be thrown at her? Did she have to take on Satan himself and the entire army of Hell?

How much more did she need to suffer?

She needed a break, needed to get away from all this for just a short amount of time. A day would suffice. A cigarette now and then was only going to give her lung cancer at this rate without calming her down and that was a lame tradeoff there.

But even if she did go ahead with that, who could she get to babysit Bain? He needed constant supervision or else he'd find himself in a trashcan again. Plus, he was too much of a pussy now to do anything if such a thing occurred again.

She immediately put the Goth kids and Kuran in the hell no category if only because they would be too lazy to do anything even if they did agree in the first place. And since Bain, like her, had a habit of making enemies everywhere he went, that meant she was up shit creek without a paddle.

And she was back where she started. Damn it.

She heard the bell for the next period ring and she knew that break time was over.

"Come on, we're going to be late," she muttered to Bain as she grabbed his shoulder and began dragging him back into the school.

"Conformists," she heard one of the Goths call them as the doors shut behind them.

* * *

"Dude, do you think what we're doing is okay?"

Stan perked up as he looked at Kyle who seemed to be thinking hard about something. He could already guess what was on the redhead's mind and he rolled his eyes at it.

"Of course it is. It's like picking on a new kid," he explained. "Besides, once we get use to it, we'll just ignore him like we do half the school."

"But that girl had a point," Kyle pointed, his eyes troubled. "I mean, would you like it if someone bullied you and you didn't remember shit?"

"Kyle, dude, you just described a new kid," Stan said slowly.

"And a new kid doesn't have amnesia," Kyle rolled his eyes.

"Not all the time," Stan pointed out. "Remember that one kid who turned out to be Matt Damon?"

"First of all, Matt Damon gets amnesia all the time," Kyle said. "If it's not retrograde amnesia, it's anterograde amnesia. He's had so many different kinds of amnesia more times than a soap opera star. And yeah, he also beat the shit out of us when we tried to pull shit on him too."

"That's because he thought he was Jason Bourne," Stan countered.

"Stan, he broke your arm, put Cartman in a body cast, and killed Kenny."

"And we sued his ass when he did remember, so?"

"Don't you have a feeling that something like that will happen to us if that Bain guy remembers?" Kyle asked.

"Kyle, he's an asshole who deserves everything that comes to him," Stan stated, becoming bored with the topic. "Remember that time he…um…what was it again? He did something and we had to get involved and…um, well he did something! Remember?"

"You just gave a description of every episode we've ever been in," Kyle deadpanned.

"Whatever, Kyle, I think you're giving this too much thought," Stan said. "Now come on, we have to get to class before that bitch marks us tardy again."

* * *

"Goddamn Jew," Cartman muttered under his breath. He had overheard the conversation between Stan and Kyle just now and to be honest, why was he so surprised that Kyle was getting cold feet? It happened practically every time, damn it! Well, at least he still had Stan on his side.

But what to do about that Jew? He had tried most everything on him and none of it had worked before. Yet he couldn't let Kyle run his mouth off either. That would ruin everything and his pick-on-someone-weaker-than-he-was card.

Huh, maybe some threats and some blackmail would do the trick?

He'd have to put some thought into it though but he was sure he could come up with something to hold over Kyle's head. He probably had something stashed away for a rainy day in case he wanted to make the daywalker's life miserable for no reason whatsoever.

Or maybe he should just beat Kyle up when no one was looking? Physical violence often solved his problems so why shouldn't it do so now?

"Um, why are you standing there?"

He jumped and snapped his head to a side, relaxing slightly when he saw Brianna staring at him. "What? I can't stand where I want to anymore?"

"Forget it," Brianna rolled her eyes, passing him by while he remained where he was.

"Stupid bitch," he chuckled to himself fondly, only to jump again when the bell rang. Goddamn it, that Jew made him late again!

* * *

There was no fire drill to interrupt class this time, no deadly infernos to chase them out of the building and give them yet another free day so they were going to be stuck in the school until it released them.

Oh joy.

His thoughts were beginning to take a more negative view of things, Bain realized. That still didn't change the fact that he didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to go somewhere where he wouldn't be bother or where his sister wouldn't dare be seen alive in. And he didn't want to trouble Charlie any further; she was looking so stressed and he had no doubts that he was responsible for that stress.

Why couldn't he remember?

He had tuned out the teacher's lecture and everyone else in a desperate attempt to remember something, anything. He was unsuccessful as nothing popped up from that black void in his head where he was sure his past was lurking. It was just so frustrating that he wanted to scream and tear his hair out! Just one memory, was that too much to ask for? Just one that could explain all the hostility he was facing or why Charlie was so close to him.

He'd cry but he was still at school and he could see the other students eyeing him like hawks, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness he showed. He was starting to get used to being on guard and didn't have to look around to know people were watching him. Things weren't much better at "home" either, what with his sister practically being in charge in all but name. His mother seemed to be off in her own little world and he didn't remember the last time he had seen his father though he was sure he had seen him last night…eating dinner? Something like that?

His head flinched as a spitball pelted the side of his head and he grimaced at the slimy sensation. Yet he made no move to wipe it away. What was the point when another ten would replace the first one?

As the bell rang to end the current class, he felt a hand press against his head and wipe away the latest spitball. It took him a second to realize that where the hand was, Charlie was on his other side and from the corner of his eye, he could see her packing her stuff up.

So then whose hand was it?

Slowly, he glanced to his other side and found himself staring at someone's stomach. He raised his eyes upward and slowly came to meet the clear blue irises of a very tall guy with blond hair who was giving him a pleasant smile. He just stared back, searching for any sign that this guy was about to pick on him but finding nothing.

Well, nothing except for a hand being held in front of his face.

"Hi, I'm Gary," the blond greeted with friendliness in his voice. "You're Bain, right?"

He nodded his head slowly, cautiously because he didn't yet trust this person. There was still a chance something might be pulled on him. He could feel Charlie's eyes on them; she was most likely waiting for someone to make a wrong move or something before coming to his rescue.

Gary continued to smile at him, hand held out and slowly, Bain raised his hand to grasp the hand. Gary's smile brightened and he shook his hand, his grip tightening subtly but then releasing it before Bain could feel threatened.

"It's nice to meet you," Gary said. "I know that you haven't been having a good time here. It was almost the same for me when I first moved here but I was still able to make some friends. Would you like to hang out, come over to my house after school, maybe stay for dinner?"

He stared back at Gary, blinking dumbly as the words were spoken to him fluidly yet quickly. He could hear him but he couldn't grasp just what Gary was asking of him.

Gary, though, seemed to pick up on this and he noticeably backed down. "Oh, sorry about that. I guess I can get carried away."

He looked to Charlie in confusion but she only shrugged back at him, as if also unsure about this development. "Right," she spoke up slowly. "We got to get going so maybe another time."

"Fine with me," Gary said cheerily. "I just wanted you to know that if you need a friend, I'm always here so I'll talk with you later?"

Bain found himself nodding before catching himself. Something about this guy was putting him at ease and he was slowly agreeing with whatever was being told to him. He didn't know whether this was a good thing or a bad thing but he figured he ask Charlie about it later and see what she thought about it.

Without another word, he followed after the girl, only pausing to glance back at the smiling blond who waved at him merrily, and leaving the classroom.

* * *

Kuran Montri: **O.o-Fox-fire-o.O**


	9. End of the Rope

Author's Note: I have the feeling that we're at the halfway point. Either that or we're close. To be honest, I wanted to be farther along with the story than at this point but that's how the cookie crumbles, huh? All I know is, the tension is rising and dam's about to break. The question is: who will break the dam? Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

End of the Rope

It was sickening to watch that prick at his act. DJ wrinkled her nose at the amnesiac boy whom she was convinced was just faking it. She had been up the last couple days looking up statistics of fake amnesia and she was positive that Bain fell into that category.

Not to say that she was a bit surprised that the boy was taking all that punishment being thrown at him but she was sure that he was storing up that anger from each incident, waiting to unleash it at the proper time. It didn't matter how long he kept up the act, she knew that he was just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

And when he did, she would be there to say "I told you so," or "I knew it," or something.

With each prank she watched or heard were pulled on him, she'd tense in anticipation when he proved her right and they could go back to the same old same old. She was patient and she had to admit, she got a sense of pleasure with each new trick done.

She was obvious as she watched Charlie tug the boy behind her like he was a child, her blue eyes narrowed. She would have thought that Charlie would have picked up on the act, not be one of the morons to fall for it hook, line, and sinker. She guessed that what she got when she thought highly of people: they'd disappoint her.

She rolled her eyes as she caught that look of innocence on Bain's face, not believing it for a minute. Who the hell did he think he was kidding? Really.

She'd like to do something to the bastard but doing something wasn't really her style. She was more of the type to sit back and watch as everyone else did it but laugh her ass off along with them. It just took too much energy to stick her leg out and trip the bastard even though he would deserve it.

And deserve it he did. Like many of the girls in this school, she too had an encounter with Bain when she was younger. It had started when the two of them had been forced to be partners on a class assignment when they were in kindergarten. Some kids got it into their heads that the two were perfect for each other and began making kissing noises at them.

For days afterward, not a day would pass when there wouldn't be a mention them being husband and wife. Bain cracked first but instead of going after them, he went for her first. He had glued her to her chair and then had gotten into her face and glared her down, as if looking for something. Calling her a cunt, he then had proceeded to dump all the paint they were using for finger painting on her. Only then did he turn on the others, nearly bashing a kid's head over on the table they were using.

Last she recalled, he almost got expelled for that but wouldn't you know it, he was back a few days later. She could still remember the look he gave her but unlike the kid beside her, she traded him glare for glare.

He later followed her home and broke a bunch of windows at her house. She knew it was him but he had been crafty enough to hide before anyone else had seen him.

Guess who then got all the blame? That's right, you're looking right at her.

He was a freak with a knife fetish, plain and simple. He'd more than likely become a serial killer when he grew up and hopefully get the lethal injection. Hell, she'd pay just so she could watch it.

Immersed in her thoughts, she was surprised when she ran into someone, their stuff falling onto the floor. Luckily for her, she rarely carried anything in her arms so there was no need for her to bend down and grab something she could have dropped.

Oh great, it was Sunny Dee. "Sorry," the pinked haired monstrosity said as she scrambled to pick up her things as quickly as possible. She was so not in the mood to listen to that shit.

"Use your fucking eyes next time," she snapped and then purposely stepped on the girl's hand, delighting in the whimper Sunny Dee gave her.

Where the hell did people ever come up with the idea that she and Bain would be perfect for one another? Honestly.

* * *

She could see the impression of DJ's shoe on her hand. No really, she could.

Sunny flexed her hand to see if anything was broken and fortunately, she was good. Once figuring that out, she looked behind her at the retreating form of DJ, a flicker of light from a dying light fixture shadowing the girl's wake, and for a moment, she could see a masked killer coming up behind the girl and cutting her in half with a dull machete. The blood splattering on the wall, DJ's intestines pooling on the floor, the girl's screams as the killer morphed from a large hulk into a more lithe form and easily snapping her head around until it was on backwards.

That was all in her head and really, she wouldn't want anything like that to happen, even though DJ was a bit on the mean side. But it still didn't mean that her hand didn't throb in pain.

Sighing, she reached down to pick up a sheet of paper that had slipped out from one of her binders when her hand bumped into another hand and she jerked it away in surprise. Looking up, she was surprised to see Kenny crouching right in front of her with half of her dropped things in hand. He had been helping her…but for how long? He had probably showed up while she had been fantasizing…

"What's wrong?" Kenny chuckled at her. "Not going to kiss this tramp?"

She blushed and looked away, not used to being flirted with. It wasn't the first time Kenny had flirted with her (he flirted with everybody), it was just that no one else did so she was kinda unused to it. She was after all so bland that nobody paid much attention to her…

"I know that look and I know what you're thinking," Kenny winked at her. "That is one sexy stud. What would it take to get him to pound me into a mattress?"

Her blush deepened as an image of such a thing popped up in her head.

"You're so molestable sometimes," Kenny told her as he collected the rest of her stuff off the floor and handed it to her. "If you're ever in the mood, you know where to find me." He gave her a mock salute and walked passed her.

However, as he walked under the flickering light fixture, a bolt of electricity blasted out of it and struck Kenny, frying him until he was a charred and blackened corpse. He leant to a side before falling onto his side and collapsing into a husk of soot.

From a distance, one could hear "Oh my God! They killed Kenny!" followed by "You bastards!"

Sunny stared at what was left of Kenny for minutes on end, ignoring the sound of the bell ringing. Finally, a small laugh escaped her lips and she began giggling at the sight. Taking out her camera phone, she took a picture of it to add to her collection of Kenny corpses.

Continuing to snicker, she headed off to class with a little hop in her stride.

* * *

Craig was idly doodling a picture of a turd on his notes as he waited for the final bell to ring. Periodically, he glance up at the clock then back to his turd when he saw that it wasn't quite time yet.

Then he would look over to where Charlie and Bain were and try to think what he could do to make the latter feel miserable.

You know, something normal and boring that would just make him soooo happy.

But he was having a block yet figured something would come to him in time if not today then tomorrow. He could see from the corner of his eye that Cartman was squirming in his seat and Butters was there trying to comfort him and at the same time try and pay attention to what the teacher was saying.

That kid was such a stooge. Even after all these years, he still pandered to that fat piece of shit, treating him as if he was his best buddy and not the asshole he was. Like he thought there was some _good_ in Cartman.

Back to the clock and only a minute had passed. Back to his doodle of a turd and hey, because he just felt like it, he doodled a corn kernel sticking out of it. Huh, not bad. He tuned back in to the teacher and once he was sure he wasn't messing anything, tuned her out again.

Yeah, he had his shit together.

Fingering his pencil, removing it from the task of doodling, his eyes roamed about the classroom boredly, landing once again on the clock then back down to Charlie and Bain. There had to be something he could do to pass the time but what? He quickly looked away as Charlie caught him looking at them and glared nastily back at him.

What was she, a guard dog now?

Before he knew it, he had his hand up and middle finger extended, a habit he hadn't been able to break since childhood. Unfortunately, Charlie wasn't the only person to caught his Pavlovian gesture.

"Ey! Asshole! Did you just flick me off?" Cartman roared at him.

By now, his hand was back down, middle finger concealed and everything which allowed him to say blandly, "No." while he was the center of attention in class.

"You Goddamn liar!" Cartman snarled at him, standing up from his desk.

An idea hit him then and he leaned back in his seat. "Why don't you ask Bain? I think you might have confused him with me."

"Like hell I did!" Cartman yelled back, completely missing what Craig had been trying to hint at.

"Eric Cartman!" the teacher reprimanded. "Sit down!"

"Screw you ho!" Cartman shot back.

Seeing the teacher's face turn red in anger, Craig supposed that this was just as good as what he had tried to do. If Cartman couldn't pick up that he was shifting the blame to Bain then the retard deserved to get what was coming to him.

"Eric Cartman!" the teacher cried out, appalled. "Detention!"

"Detention? What the hell are you thinking you crazy bitch?" Cartman continued to dig his own grave, much to Craig's amusement. "If anyone should be getting a detention, it's that asshole who flipped me off!" At this, he pointed a chubby finger right at him but he looked boredly back at him as if he had no part whatsoever in this. What a moron, he still hadn't figured out his shift the blame maneuver yet. Sap.

"H-hey Eric, maybe you oughta sit down?" Butters suggested nervously.

"Shut up Butters!" Cartman snapped at him.

"Mr. Cartman!" the teacher was practically heaving in anger at this point. "Go to the principal's office. _Now_."

"Fucking cunt," Cartman muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

Oh, he just loved watching Cartman dig himself deeper and deeper. It made him sooo happy…

* * *

"Stupid bitch. Fucking Craig," Cartman grumbled to himself as he waiting outside the principal's office. The secretary didn't seem to be surprised to see him and the two had actually greeted each other cordially, Cartman asking how life with the husband was and her asking how far along his ambitions were to conquer the world.

Small talk, you know?

Perhaps the most pleasant and peaceful time of the Cartman usually had.

The door to Principal Estrada's office opened and Cartman sneered at the Mexican who stood there smiling down at him. Fucking illegal alien son of a bitch…

"Ah, _Senor_ Cartman, just ze person I wanted to zee!" Principal Estrada said, gesturing for him to come in as if he was a welcome guest and not in trouble. Cartman raised an eyebrow and looked at the secretary who simple shrugged back him, just as clueless. God damn, that wetback was nuts.

Trudging into the office, the principal shutting the door behind him, Cartman took the first available seat he could find, pointedly ignoring the audible straining sound that came from the chair once he sat on it.

As Principal Estrada took his seat behind his desk, Cartman spoke up, "Okay, let's get this over with, what do you want to do with me and for how long? I don't want to be here any longer than necessary."

"Ah, _Senor_ Cartman, so full of jokes," Principal Estrada chuckled. "But to busineess, I'm glad you came here."

Cartman blinked. "What?"

"I have a proposition for you," Principal Estrada continued as if he hadn't heard him. "It involves one _Senor_ Cynis. Interested?"

Cartman narrowed his eyes. What was this guy up to? "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Eet ees really simple," the principal said. "I weel let you geet away weeth almost anything provided zhat you torment _Senor_ Cynis, _si_?"

"Are you…are you asking me to pick on that Bain kid and that you'll keep me out of trouble if I agree?" Cartman asked dubiously

"_Si_," Principal Estrada agreed.

"Okay!" Cartman said eagerly, all doubts about the principal completely gone now that they had reached some common ground: making someone else's life a living hell. "So, is there anything in particular that you'd like to see done?"

"_Si, Senor_ Cartman," Principal Estrada said, grinning malevolently. "There are a lot of theengs I'd like to zee done…"

* * *

Finally, with one whole day of school completed, Charlie led Bain out of the school, her face scowling as if she had tasted something bad. She was still pissed off at Estrada and had come to the determination that no matter what, she was not going to let the illegal bastard get the best of her. Threatening her with her grades? Wouldn't INS like to learn about him! Fuck her grades, it wasn't as if she couldn't make them up.

Besides, one of her best friends was a mercenary who could get so much dirt on the bastard that she'd be able to pass along stuff about his childhood that he probably wouldn't like getting out. He thought he was hot stuff? He had _no_ idea who he was messing with.

And, she supposed as she glanced back at Bain, that Bain if he had his memory would also do something about Estrada if only because of the belief that only he had the right to torment her and no one else. She kinda wished he did remember; it'd be one of the sweetest things he'd ever do for her.

But alas, things were different and she was still trying to get used to them. That and there was also Tammy back home who would be pestering her about Bain until the cows came home. She was really starting to worry about her sister and her frame of mind.

"Hey! Wait up!" a voice called from behind them.

Coming to a stop, Charlie turned her head just enough to see who was speaking to them and found much to her irritation that it was that Gary kid again, the blond jogging up to them from behind with a friendly smile on his face. From the corner of her eye, she could see Bain inch closer to her as he watched the blond distrustfully.

"What do you want?" she asked dryly, leaning her weight on one leg to give the impression of her being laidback.

Gary just grinned at them, no malice whatsoever in his expression. "I was wondering if you guys needed a ride home. My parents got be a car a while ago so…"

"This isn't some kind of trick is it?" Charlie asked bluntly.

Gary didn't even look offended though he did smile sympathetically. "I can see where you're coming from but honestly, I'm just offering to give you guys a ride home. Nothing more, nothing less."

Charlie eyed the Mormon critically, searching for any sign of duplicity. This Gary kid seemed honest enough that she was having trouble not refusing him. Huh, it had been a long time since she had met someone like that but she was still cautious. Such people were too good to be true and usually were. Like they say, the brighter the picture, the darker the negative.

With that in mind, she peered around Gary, taking in the sight of a few people talking and watching them. She noted how they didn't seem very eager, as if they hadn't any prior knowledge of what Gary was talking to them about. The way they were casting wary looks at the blond that seemed unscripted was another point to Gary credibility.

She was really starting to have a problem trying to come up with a plausible excuse of why they weren't going to take up his offer. Well, she supposed, she could leave the decision up to Bain.

She gave the guy a look and asked, "Well?"

Bain looked back at her in surprised. He probably hadn't been made to make a decision of this kind since he had woken up from his coma. People had probably been making decision for him the whole time and he had just been going along with them because he had no other reason why he shouldn't.

It shouldn't be such a stretch for someone as "smart" as him to figure out that there were assholes in this world that would love the chance to screw him over.

"Okay?" Bain said, giving her a look that was asking if he had made the right decision.

"Alright!" Gary said cheerfully. "My car is just over this way. Follow me, okay?"

Hmm, maybe Bain should have said no. All this cheer was starting to give her a headache.

* * *

It wasn't often that Ryleigh found herself confused but right now she was confused.

Specifically, it was about that Mormon kid that she didn't pay much attention to. She barely acknowledged his existence yet there he was leading Charlie and Bain to the parking lot. She couldn't stand not knowing what was going on but before she could set out to clear up this mystery, the trio was getting into a car and driving off.

Well shit.

Looking around, trying to see if there was at least one person who might have an idea of what the hell was going on, her eyes met up with DJ's scornful ones. For some reason, corpse girl was looking ticked off about something and Ryleigh could read that irritation clear as day in the other girl's eyes, so much so that she had to look away.

Unfortunately, her eyes landed on Bebe and she felt her stomach twist at the sight. She did not like Bebe, the sight of the other girl making her tense up and ready herself to either scratch the other's eyeballs out or still a curling iron into her crotch, which ever was more handy at the moment.

Yet, she could stifle her hate for the girl should something Bebe be talking actually interest her. Like gossip. Of course that was more like a fifty-fifty thing there. While Ryleigh loved her gossip, sometimes even that wasn't enough to get her to tolerate the other for a suspended amount of time.

So she redirected her attention again and found Brianna Vargas who had just left the building and walked past her.

She would do.

"Hey, have you—" she began only to get cut off by Brianna.

"Can't say that I have," Brianna said, giving her a dispassionate look. "Gotta be going, can't stay around and chat. Things to do."

Well…that was a bit rude. As she watched Brianna walk off, she wondered what was up that girl's butt. Oh well. Looking around again, she once again spotted Bebe, this time chatting with Kim and Ryleigh grimaced. Looks like if she wanted some girl talk she was going to have to suck it up and take one for the team.

Eh, she'd talk about it tomorrow or something.

From beside her, she heard DJ mutter, "Sucker," and trudge away. Ryleigh stared at the redhead and placed her hand against her forehead. What was up with today anyway? Was everyone except the people she hated on their period or something?

She felt an arm settle itself on her shoulder and a body press up from behind, sending a shiver down her spine. She relaxed quickly enough as a masculine voice said teasingly into her ear, "Feeling lonely? Don't worry, I'll keep you company."

"Brandon," she rolled her eyes and turned her head just slightly so that she could look at the boy from the corner of her eye. "Mind giving me back my personal space."

"Not really," the caramel skinned teen shrugged, grinning lazily at her. "Just noticed that you looked alone and thought you could use a little cheering up, maybe a make out session?"

"Appreciated but not necessary," she laughed.

"So I guess a horizontal tango is out of the question?" he asked wryly.

"Don't make me kick your ass," she taunted.

"I don't know about that. I might be into that kind of thing," Brandon mused. "Hmm, maybe Thomas might be too…"

"TMI," she interrupted, physically removing his arm from her. "I don't need to know what perv fantasies you're thinking of, thank you very much!"

"Hey, you don't know," Brandon said defensively. "I might be thinking of a threesome or something and you're there dressed up like a dominatrix. Hell, I bet you could pull off the act to if you put your mind to it."

She opened her mouth to refute it but the idea was lodged in her head. She paused and thought about it for a minute before asking, "You think I could?"

* * *

Where the hell was Christophe?

Rhiannon frowned as she searched for her boyfriend, said boyfriend nowhere to be seen. Usually, he was there to pick her up but very recently he seemed to be shirking on that duty. She didn't like it nor did she like the doubts welling up inside of her.

But to add the proverbial cherry to this shit sundae, she had overheard that someone had seen Christophe in the parking lot with Leo and had left already. Without her. Was there something going on behind her back that she should be aware of? Last she recalled, Christophe was _her_ boyfriend and he had given no indication that he swung _that_ way.

Blimey, she was not only being paranoid but she was coming up with the weirdest ideas. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation as to why she had been in her boyfriend's company less and less over the past couple of weeks. Whatever that explanation was was currently beyond her right now but really, at this point she was grasping at straws.

By now the buses had left and since she couldn't spot anyone she could mooch a ride off of, she was walking home. Of course, home had to be halfway across town, not hard mind you but it certainly wasn't easy. There was a reason why they used school buses in this town, you know.

The crunching of the snow beneath her feet and the cool air that had been warming slightly over the past couple of weeks, making the coming of spring more immanent, were her only company. She'd huff but her breath wouldn't be smoke as it wasn't cold enough for that anymore.

She jumped as a car horn blared behind her and she clutched at her chest as she spun around, trying to keep her heart from beating right out of her chest. What she found was her missing boyfriend in his car right behind her, the French asshole smirking at her lazily. So now he decided to show up? And scare the living shit out of her at the same time? Like hell she was going to take this!

"Eat my fucking shorts and vomit on them!" she declared and flipped him off.

Christophe pulled his car up beside her and lowered his window. "You speak so eloquently."

"I actually meant every word this time. That wasn't a case of verbal diarrhea, asshat," she said dryly.

"Get in," Christophe invited, shifting his car into park. "You must be freezing."

"Fuck my hair," she blurted out and flushed. "Okay, that I didn't mean to say."

"You always know ze way to my 'eart," Christophe teased.

A minute later, the car was moving again, this time with Rhiannon in the passenger seat. "So, where've you been this time?"

"Doing Miles a favor," Christophe shrugged. "'e asked me to take Leo home for 'im today. 'e 'ad to leave early today for work."

"Is it just me or have you been spending a lot of time with Leo lately?" she asked, giving her boyfriend her full attention. It was time she got some fucking answers around here.

"It's probably you," Christophe replied. Eyeing her teasingly, he asked, "Jealous?"

"Damn right I am," she muttered under her breath.

Christophe sighed. "I am sorree but I 'ave other commitments Rhiannon. Miles and Leo are going zrough some trouble and it looks like Miles may 'ave to drop out."

Okay, she hadn't known that and now she was feeling bad for being jealous and paranoid.

They lapsed into silence and after a few minutes, Rhiannon noticed that they were close to her house. Hmm, shouldn't they be going to Christophe's house or something? She looked at him inquiringly and noticed that he seemed a bit more downtrodden. Something was up, definitely, but she had a feeling that she might not like what it was. Her dread increased as Christophe parked in front of her house and turned the ignition off.

Maybe she was looking at this too deeply. Perhaps he just wanted to come inside.

"Rhiannon, you know I love you, _oui_?" Christophe started though he wasn't looking at her.

She swallowed nervously and nodded her head. Why wasn't he looking at her?

"You know I would never do anything to 'urt you?"

"What are you getting at?" she half asked, half demanded. She didn't like the sound of his voice, didn't like that she felt something bad was up.

"Rhiannon," Christophe sighed. "I zink we need to pick a floral pattern."

Wait. What?

"Excuse me?" she asked flabbergasted.

"Leo, 'e wants to decorate his and Miles' apartment," Christophe began to explain, "and 'e asked me to pick a design but I know sheet about what's fashionable."

Rhiannon sighed, chuckling. It had all been in her mind. "I thought you were saying you wanted to break up with me," she laughed. Man, what a relief!

"About zat," Christophe said nervously. "I zink we should separate for a little bit."

Yeah floral patterns, she thought she could help out. Maybe a little of this, a little of that, and hold the phone…

"What?" she practically screeched as what her boyfriend just said finally caught up to her. "What the fuck do you mean 'separate'?"

"It's merely temporary!" Christophe tried to explain. "I am 'aving zome issues and I feel zat I could better address zem—"

"You're fucking cheating on me, aren't you?" she demanded.

"I am not unfaithful!" Christophe exclaimed, giving her a look of hurt. "I just need zome time to straighten my zoughts—"

"And how the hell does that add up to breaking up with me?" she snarked. "Please, tell me what is so important that you have to do this. What is it, huh?"

"I am bicurious, sheet!" Christophe blurted out, looking pissed as he glared at his steering wheel. "Ever since zat day at Stark's Pond 'ere Charlie asked me to give CPR. Zen zere's Leo and fuck! Fucking sheet!"

She stared wide eyed at Christophe. "Are…are you telling me…?" her voice cracked. "Are you telling me that the guy…the guy who's been trying to kill me for practically a whole year…made you gay?"

"Bicurious," Christophe corrected, "and I don't know. Rhiannon, sheet, I didn't plan on any of zis sheet 'appening! I just…I just don't want to 'urt you!"

"Too fucking late for that," she hiccupped. "How the fuck could you do this?"

"I'm sorree Rhiannon, it just 'appened," Christophe said quietly. His head rocked to a side as she struck him on the side of the head but even she knew that her hit wouldn't cause him any damage. He was too tough for that.

"Take your fucking sorrys and shove them up your ass," she spat, tears trailing down her cheeks. She grabbed the door handled and shoved open the door, getting out and running towards the sanctuary of her house.

Watching her vanish into the building and hating himself. Christophe sighed again. At the risk of sounding like Tony Hayward, he said quietly, "Sorry…"

* * *

Charlie had a headache growing in her head and she didn't feel like dealing with any more shit that day. Spending so much time with someone as cheerful as that Mormon could drive someone crazy! But even after Gary had dropped them off, her afternoon hadn't ended there. Bain had asked if she could go inside with him and with that look of despair on his face, Charlie found she couldn't say no.

That's when she met the empress of all bitches; if she thought the girls at school could be cunts, they were girl scouts compared to the one and only Sierra Cynis. The less said about her, the better. She had barely taken a step in when she found the elder Cynis lounging on the couch, watching a soap opera when she turned her head towards them and demanded that Bain make her a late lunch.

Seeing how helpless Bain looked, Charlie put her foot down and told the girl to get up and do it herself, though the words she used were nowhere near as nice.

Talk about a bitchfest. If Bain hadn't dragged her up the stairs in time, there'd be one less person in the world. The arrogance, the selfishness, the self-centeredness, she could understand where Bain got it from.

If she had to live with that all the time, she probably be as homicidal as Bain used to be.

So while Sierra stormed about downstairs, Bain gave her the "grand tour" of his room which was something she had expected to look a bit more evil looking. Instead of a four-poster bed with sinister black drapes or some kind of ceremonial altar where animals were to be tortured to death, she was met with the inside of a mental patient's room. Bare white walls, dull gray carpet, a desk and bookshelf was what she found and she found herself staring in wonder at how plain and dull it looked. With the exception of a dart board hanging next to the door, there was nothing decorating the place and it reminded her of the whiteness of a hospital.

But she couldn't say Bain was as dull as his room. He seemed a bit hyper with her in there, trying to show her everything that he had found in here, things and knickknacks he couldn't remember anything about. Don't get her started about the bookshelf; he must have read all those books by now going by the way he wouldn't shut up about what he had read in them.

She did not need to know about the malleability of human flesh, thank you very much.

On her way out, she had been unexpectedly accosted by Bain's father who had snuck up on her. She couldn't explain how she could let someone that big get so close to her without her knowing. Bain's father, though, didn't say anything about his children or anything; what he did say was to remind her mother that her next deadline was in six months before showing her out.

Now she was back home where she was dreading the last bit of Bain related talk for the evening. Tammy was more than likely back by now and would be rushing at her like an attention starved golden retriever.

Fortunately for her sanity, she was met with Stella who was eating a sandwich. The younger girl raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing, wandering deeper into the house. Oh, look who was trying to be all stoic now. Christ, she needed a vacation or get laid or something. Anything to get her mind off of this shit.

At the rate this was going, she was going to snap at the next thing that pissed her off. Seriously. Not even Jack had managed to put so much pressure on her and he had stalked her family all around the world and killed their father all the while trying to kill her. Those times were so much simpler now that she looked back at them.

"Charlie!" she heard Tammy call to her as she trudged up the stairs. At the top of them stood Tammy who was beaming down at her, shifting her weight from leg to leg while impatiently waiting for her to reach her.

Charlie groaned under her breath.

"What do you want?" she asked tiredly, not even acknowledging her sibling with a name. She passed Tammy and made her way to her room where her bed waited invitingly.

"How was Bain?" Tammy asked, trailing after her like a puppy. "Did he ask about me?"

"He's okay," she sighed, entering her room and making her way to her bed. She stood in front of it before allowing herself to fall onto it and bury her face into the soft blankets.

"Charlie!" she could hear Tammy whine at her. "Don't go to sleep!" the little girl continued, tugging at her.

"I'm not in the mood," she mumbled to her sister. "Go bother Stella."

"But I want to talk about Bain!" Tammy pouted at her.

"Can't it wait?" she moaned.

"No!"

Charlie was quickly losing her patience or whatever was left of it before she came back home. She didn't want to yell at Tammy but seriously, could she not take the hint? Couldn't she obsess over Bain in private like every other stalker fangirl out there?

"Charlie!"

"SHUT UP!" Charlie roared, pushing herself up onto her elbows and glaring at her sister, Tammy backed away as if she had just been bitten and was watching her with wide eyes. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM! _NOW_!"

Tammy sniffed and fled, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. Great, make her feel guilty why don't you? Immediately she felt remorse for yelling at the girl but right now she was at the end of her rope and she'd lash out at the next person who pestered her.

And that was a Goddamn guarantee.


	10. My Best Friend

Author's Note: Long ass chapter ahead. To be honest, I could have posted it sooner but I just decided to keep writing and before I know it, I'm 7,000+ words along. So, instead of waiting until Wednesday, I'm posting today. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, slight violence

My Best Friend

Something was different today, Bain could feel it.

It all started when his mother shooed him out of the house so that he could go to school. Instead of meeting Charlie, he found a car waiting in front of his house with that Gary kid who was waving at him. Without the protection Charlie usually casted on him, he noticed how much bigger Gary was from how he towered over him to how broad his shoulders were, hinting at him either being a muscular hulk or an obese stricken guy.

For some reason, he was leaning more towards the former.

He tightened the black trenchcoat that he had managed to prevail on wearing that day over his mother's objection around his body, as if it would protect him from some unseen danger.

"Great morning, isn't it?" Gary greeted him as he opened the passenger side door for him. He looked around uncertainly before being coaxed in by that charming smile the blond had. Where was Charlie anyway? Was she going to meet him at the school?

"I heard that you're just hanging out in school," Gary mentioned as he drove them. "You don't have to do any work, just sit around and make friends, right? You already passed a test that's going to let you skip to the next year."

He nodded cautiously. That's what he had been told thus far by his mother, his father not really saying much because he didn't see the man very often. He didn't remember much about the guy, and that included from the time he left the hospital. If he had to describe his father, he'd have to say he was some kind of ghost.

"How about you come to my classes today?" Gary suggested in their one sided conversation. "Just mix things up. Plus, I hear that people have been picking on you. I figure, if they don't know where you are ahead of time, they won't be able to pull something big on you."

He…he had a point. Bain wasn't having any luck poking a hole in the argument so he figured, well, why not?

"What about Charlie?" he asked, the first thing he had contributed on his own to the conversation.

"Oh. Well, we'll just tell her what's up when we see her," Gary said happily.

In that case, he supposed that was okay…

Having expected Charlie to be waiting for him in front of the school, he was mildly surprised not to see her in sight. He wasn't really keen with time but shouldn't she be here by now? Before he could think hard about it, he found Gary taking his hand and leading him into the school, the blond shielding him from the sight of Token and Clyde who seemed surprised at his change in guard.

He could feel eyes on him, all of them wondering what was going on, why wasn't he with Charlie and what was Gary doing holding his hand? He began to feel extremely anxious in the unexpected breach in his routine and he gripped Gary's hand tighter as if that hand was the one lifeline that was keeping him afloat.

Reaching Gary's first class, he found himself stopping with the blond as there was someone ahead of them, paused in the doorway. A girl with deep red hair and blue eyes that seemed to almost blend in with the whites of her eyes was glaring at them. He felt a throb in his head but as sudden as it had come, it was gone. Huh, what had that been about?

"Morning DJ!" Gary greeted the girl, seemingly oblivious to the hostility the girl was radiating.

Those blue eyes twitched, as if moving away from Bain to focus more on Gary. "What are you doing with _him_?" the girl demanded. Hmm, something about the venom in that voice…it was so familiar… Where had he heard it before?

"I'm showing him around," Gary answered.

"You know he's just faking it," DJ stated.

"Faking amnesia?" Gary asked skeptically. "I don't think so. Sure people have in the past but this is the real deal."

"You are such an idiot," DJ stated before going into the classroom, not deigning to give them another glance.

"Just ignore her," Gary's voice spoke. "DJ is…she's a very introverted person. Don't take her seriously."

Whatever he said…

Leading him into the room where he could feel the intensity of DJ's stare, Gary led him to a desk that he explained was the one he usually sat at but for today he could sit in it. He was starting to get the hang of this assigned seating arraignment that all the classes seemed to have. Violating the arraignment seemed to be a big deal around here, which was soon reinforced as that kid in the green hat (he was Kyle, wasn't he?) showed up and frowned at Gary.

"What are you doing in my seat?" the guy asked.

"Hey Kyle! I didn't think you would mind it if I sat here today," Gary answered. "I'm showing Bain around today."

"Dude, why are you hanging around with that kid?" Kyle demanded disapprovingly.

"Because he needs a friend," Gary answered easily. "He needs more than just Charlie. Since none of you guys are going to do it, I will, and let me say that I don't want any of you guys trying to pull something on him."

"Do you think he would do the same thing if you were in his shoes?" Kyle asked, his voice sharp. "You can't tell me you've forgotten what he was like."

"Why does that matter?" Gary countered easily. "That's who he was then; this is who he is now. Only people with low self-esteem and tiny balls would pick on a kid with amnesia."

Kyle seemed outraged yet he didn't say anything, as if something about Gary's words had struck something in him. "Whatever," he grumbled, stalking away to another seat.

Watching this, Bain turned his attention back to Gary and said, "Uh…Gary?"

"Yes?" Gary looked back at him, that ever present friendly smile on his face.

"What you said back there…who I was then," he asked slowly, unsure. "What do you…what do you know about me? Before I forgot everything?"

Was it just him or did Gary's smile get a little sad? "To be honest, I didn't know anything about you before your accident. Only what I heard."

"What…what did you hear?" he asked, almost desperate. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really been told about his past. No one ever mentioned it, talked about it, and he hadn't really asked about it either. Maybe it was time that he did.

"Not much," Gary said apologetically. "I just heard that you weren't a real friendly person."

Nothing and then, "Is that it?"

"I'm sorry," Gary said, scratching the back of his head. "We were doing our own things and never talked with one another."

"I see," he said quietly.

"Why don't you just tell him he's an evil, psychopathic, sexist asshole already?" a voice cut in, causing Bain to turn his head in the direction of DJ who was glowering at him.

"What?" he asked, blinking dumbly.

"You know what you are," DJ stated to his face. "Stop with the act and drop it. You hate everyone and have already killed someone. You and Charlie duked it out because you hate each other. You should have drowned in Stark's Pond and saved everyone the trouble, asshole."

"DJ!" Gary snapped at the girl, no longer looking friendly. In fact, the look he was giving the girl got DJ to shut up pretty quickly, as if she hadn't been expecting such a thing either. After a moment of silence, Gary finally said quietly, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

Bain was silent as he took it all in. Half of the stuff she said didn't make sense; what did she mean by sexist? And he fought with Charlie? He couldn't hate her, could he? She was so nice to him so why would he? But most of all, there was one thing that he couldn't figure out.

"Are you okay?" Gary asked, slightly shaking his shoulder in worry. He looked at the blond and blinked.

"What's an asshole?"

Gary stared at him, as if trying to figure out how best to answer him but was thus far unsuccessful. How could you tell someone what an asshole was, especially with the meaning that DJ meant? And…what _was_ an asshole anyway?

Bain waited for Gary to answer expectantly but the blond couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer before the bell rang for first period to begin. However, before the teacher could begin her lesson plan, she was cancelled out by the beeping of the intercom, the morning announcements starting a couple hours early.

It soon became apparent as to why the announcements were early…

_Is this thing on? Oh really? It ain't mah fault this school's wiring is shitty! Ahem…_

Bain found himself frowning for some reason; wasn't that voice that Cartman guy's?

_Students of South Park High, I have a very important announcement for yous. The main office has found a pair of balls and would like for Bain Cynis to pick them up. Bain Cynis, please come pick up your balls at the main office. You seem to be missing your pair._

Bain could hardly hear the end of that as the class was raucous with laughter. Some students were clutching their sides, others their desks, while a couple were on the floor, laughing it up. He didn't know why but he had the feeling that he should feel embarrassed or at least humiliated.

Wait, how did he know humiliate and what did it mean?

_Also, I want to declare that today is 'Pick on Assholes with Different Colored Eyes' Day! If you see anyone with different colored eyes and they are an asshole, make their life a living hell people! It's the latest fad!_

Why was everybody looking at him with those looks?

_Oh! And one last thing. Be sure to spit on any Jews you happen to see. It's what those Jesus-killing fags deserve! Thank you._

"Goddamn it Cartman!" Kyle roared from his seat, glaring at the ceiling where the intercom.

* * *

Second period wasn't over by the time Bain had enough. As laughter trailed after him, Gary calling after him in concern, he fled to the first sanctuary he could find. That sanctuary was the boy's bathroom but before he entered, he had to make sure that it was the boy's bathroom and not the girls'.

It was bad out there; as soon as Cartman's announcement was over, the torment had begun. It had started small; just a few names and insults but it grew out of control from there. For some reason, the teacher wasn't doing anything and if he looked at her, he could have sworn that she too was enjoying it. Because he wasn't in the usual classroom, the students couldn't pull out anything they had prepared in advance but they were good at improvising.

First came the dryboard erasers then the class trashcan being upended and dumped all over him. Gary tried to stop it, tried to make it ease up but he couldn't cover all angers as spitballs were soon employed.

He was out of there with Gary when the bell rang but it was like walking off the pan and into the fire. Before he knew it, he was pulled away from Gary's side and becoming acquainted with the inside of a locker. He was panicking within, trying to tear his way out of it all the while people were laughing and jeering at him from the other side. It got quiet for a moment before the door was torn open and he was being hauled out of it by none other than Charlie.

Whatever gratitude he had welling up in him soon died at the foul look Charlie was giving him. She shoved him in the direction of Gary and told him to enjoy his new boyfriend. He couldn't understand why she was so mad. The fact that she seemed to be joining in with the others hurt far worse than he had expected.

And the jokes and taunts that were thrown at him next, oh they were just filled to the brim with homophobic insults. The abuse followed both of them as Gary led him into his second period but Cartman was there waiting for him.

It had gotten to a climax when he was hit with an apple. The apple had bounced off him and landed on the desk where it steadied but he found he couldn't take his eyes off of it. The red peel glistened in the artificial light and the only thing that was running through his mind beign surrounded by the color red and being slowly crushed by it. His breath had quickened and he screamed out loud before fleeing the classroom and heading for a place that he could hide.

Ultimately, it led him up to this point, him in the boys' bathroom leaning over a sink, his head hovering over porcelain bowl as he caught his breath and calmed down. He didn't want to come out because he knew deep in his hear that things were going to get worse. He was lucky that no one had dumped any food or liquids on him yet but his trenchcoat did have some chalk residue, though where they came from he had no idea.

Water ran from the faucet and he cupped his hands under the spray, splashing his face to destroy the tearmarks on his cheeks. He didn't want to give any of them out there more ammo to use against him. However, the tears weren't from all the abuse he was suffering; it was more from the headache that he could feel throbbing behind his eyes. The headache was fairly recent, showing up just after he escaped from second period.

It felt like something was in his head, clawing against something, trying to break out…

He heard someone enter the bathroom and he peeked up from his hands to look in the mirror. He found the reflection of that Stan guy smirking at him and he groaned audibly. They couldn't give him some time to himself, could they?

"Cartman wasn't kidding," Stan said, arms crossed over his chest. "I guess Cartman's Pick on Assholes with Different Colored Eyes Day is a success."

He said nothing to Stan, focusing more on his headache than anything.

He could hear the other teen's footsteps as he approached him. "Aw, do you have a boo boo?" Stan teased. "You know, it don't matter how hard you scrub, you're never going to get rid of your face, freak."

Something snapped; he couldn't tell you what it was but what happened next came in a blur yet at the same time so clear that he could recount each movement he made. He spun around on his heel, swinging a fist that landed right in Stan's throat. As the larger teen chocked and grabbed at his neck, his blue eyes bulging, Bain was grabbing Stan's head and pulling him towards him, smashing the jock's head right into the middle and creating a spider web of cracks in it.

Pull Stan back from the mirror, he spun the boy around and shoved him backwards into the side of a stall, Stan sliding down against it until he sat on his ass. By now, Bain's vision was nothing but red and he was marching at the teen, grabbing Stan's head again and bashing it against the stall wall repeatedly.

The moment something wet struck his face, he stopped, letting go of Stan and backing away slowly. He placed his hand against his face and pulled it away, noting the small red droplets that stuck to his fingers. Looking back at Stan, he stared in horror at the blood that was seeping out of a gash on his forehead, the teen sitting dazed and uncomprehending of what was going on.

Had…had he done that? For a moment, he had felt different, as if he was somebody else. He saw the broken mirror and he turned his head to look at it, observing his fractured reflection. For a moment, it looked like there was a completely different person glaring back at him and that was the catalyst for him to spin on his heel and flee out of the bathroom.

He shoved open the door and ran down the hallway, ignoring how Cartman lay in front of the restroom, the door having slammed him in the face and pushed him backwards. He needed to get out of here, especially as that headache had begun to intensify. He could hear voices behind him yelling things but he couldn't make them out.

Before he knew it, he was slamming open a door and running out of the school into the snowy landscape beyond. But he didn't stop, he continued to run and run and even as he grew tired, he ran some more. Where was he going? He didn't know and he didn't care. He just needed to get as far away as he could or he felt he was going to do something else, something bad…

The shrill shriek of a carhorn broke him out of his trance and he realized he was in the middle of the road in downtown South Park? How had he gotten this far? He didn't know but he didn't stand in the middle of the road either, getting onto the sidewalk while a car passed him with its irate driver flicking him off.

He gasped for air, leaning his body against a building and began to wonder what he should do now. He knew he was going back to that school, no way, no how. But it was still early in the day and he knew Sierra was still at the house. He couldn't go back there and he didn't want to go to Charlie's either so then where…?

Hadn't that DJ girl said something? Stark's Pond? Yeah, she mentioned that he should have drowned there. Maybe if he went there, he could find some answers…

* * *

He had trekked through the town but finally he had found the place where he had deduced this had all started at. He shivered and wrapped his trenchcoat tightly around his body as he stood at the shore of the icy pond. The ends of his legs were wet with slush and the chill permeated to the bone.

So this was Stark's Pond, Bain wondered. This was the place that DJ girl had alluded to? He knew it was Stark's Pond because there was a sign just over there that said so but he had been expecting something else. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know what he had been expecting.

Here he was and yet nothing. Nothing was coming to mind, nothing to jog the memory that he was searching desperately for. It was here he received his amnesia and now that he was back here, shouldn't that mean he would start remembering?

He grunted and put a hand to his throbbing head; that headache had stayed with him ever since he had escaped from school and by now he was beginning to get a little annoyed by it. Why wouldn't it go away? Why hadn't he any control over his life? No matter what he tried to grasp, it always crumbled in his hands, increasing his frustration and despair.

Edging closer to the solidified water…what did solidify mean anyway? Well, anyway, he was close enough to the edge of the pond that he could still stay on dry land while testing his footing on the ice. It looked solid enough so he thought that maybe he could get something else by changing his physical perception of the place.

No sooner had he started putting a little weight down on the ice did he stumble back from how thin it actually was. Water sloshed out from the hole he had inadvertently made and he had backed away as quickly as he could. In his head, something was telling him not to get any closer; the ice wouldn't hold up his weight and he could fall under.

For some reason, it made him feel a little out of breath.

As he stood there, breathing heavily, wondering what he was suppose to do now, he was struck with a crippling pain in his head as his headache's intensity rose to a crescendo. He clutched at his head and when that didn't do anything, he cried out in a harsh, throaty yell.

He staggered a few steps to his right, pressing his hands harder and harder against his skull, eyes clenched tightly. Had they been open, it would have been debatable whether he would have noticed the trickle of blood leaking from his nose, dripping down to stain the pure white snow.

Grunting, he threw himself into a fluffy snow drift, sinking easily and burying his head into it. Hopefully the cold of the snow could alleviate the pressure that was pounding within his skull. However, he was able to notice that he had sunk a bit too deep into the drift. Removing one hand from his aching head, he pressed it down into the snow, hoping to push himself slightly up. His hand, instead, dove further into the snow where it came into contact with something a bit more unyielding.

Cracking open an eye in confusion, he blindly searched the object with his fingertips and grasped what he figured was some kind of oblong object. Leaning backwards, he managed to partial removing himself from the drift enough so that he could pull out his arm and discover what he had found in the hope of distracting himself from the headache.

He froze up as he found that he held a large knife in his hand.

As soon as his eyes landed on the glinting blade, his fingers that had once held the blade's handle tightened, aligning in way that was eerily natural, as if they had held this knife before.

And then, unbidden, his head throbbed and he bowed it, eyes clenched shut once more but instead of seeing black, something else came up.

_He was walking away from a large building, South Park Elementary to be precise. It would be his last year in the godforsaken building, his intellect having been stifled in that redneck churning abomination._

_To be corralled with all the mental deficits, it was an affront to his ego. Once sixth grade was finished, it would be to South Park Junior High for the seventh and eighth grades but he was none too thrill about that prospect either._

_Just two more years he'd be stuck with these sheep._

_But more to the present, he knew he was being followed; his stalkers weren't being very secretive about their movements. Sure he could continue on home but there was no way he was going to lead those three horses' asses to where he slept. No, he would have to deal with them and more than that, ensure they wouldn't try to pull a stunt like this again._

_In fact, in his sleeve he had a little number that would do just the trick._

_The way he was going wasn't his usual route back home; no he was reading towards the commercial district of the town, i.e. downtown. As he reached the border between the residential and commercial districts, he cut into an alley that served as a makeshift border between them. With a wooden fence to his right and a dumpster to his left, he settled himself against the dumpster and faced the entrance to the alley, arms crossed over his chest._

_He schooled his facial features into a scowl and waited for his followers to appear, which they did all too soon. Hmm, Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan, and Token Black, why wasn't he surprised. Already he was eyeing the trio, measuring what their worth would be to his made-on-the-spot plan and how they could best benefit him._

_In way, these three showing up couldn't have worked better if he had planned it from the beginning. Craig Tucker with his focus on having life 'nice and boring' would be a more credible and valuable pawn for him to use._

"_Done running away?" Clyde Donovan spoke first, surprisingly enough to him since he was expecting either Craig or Token to have the first word._

"_If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were waiting for us," Token smirked at him._

_Snorting, he replied his a velvety yet scratchy voice, "Actually, I don't like the thought of any of you knowing where I sleep at night."_

"_You calling us homos?" Clyde frowned at him._

"_No, fags. You're certainly inconsiderate as one," he replied smoothly._

_Meanwhile, Craig, the most stoic one of the three, had yet to say anything. If anything, those dark eyes were studying him, trying to find some reason for his confidence. He knew that of the trio, Craig was the most mature in both body and mind as he had entered puberty earlier than any of the males in school. Whether he displayed it or not, Craig was smart and he didn't pick a fight any time he felt like it either._

_A foe worthy of respect in his mind but still nothing but a mere pissant._

_He said nothing and only smirked back at the trio, waiting for one to make the first move. It was vital for one of them to do it, it didn't matter which one. His role was to be reactive, not proactive._

_Come on, you stupid sons of bitches, do something!_

_It was Clyde who ventured close and the glare he was spotting was an obvious sign that he had pressed the right button. Considered to be the second fattest boy in school, though unlike a certain someone Clyde was just big boned, he showed some force when he grabbed him by the lapels of his trenchcoat and pulled him towards him._

"_Listen you asswipe," the brunet began to speak but was interrupted as he wrapped an arm around those husky shoulders and brought Clyde even closer to his petite form. With his other hand, he slid out his secret weapon and stabbed it into Clyde's stomach._

"_Dude, what's he doing?" Token asked. "That looks so gay!" Heh, he wouldn't be saying that if he knew what was _really_ going on…_

_Clyde had froze up against him, his grip on his coat slackening. With his smirk widening ever so slightly, he maliciously twisted his hidden object then shoved Clyde away from him. The boy fell back from him but was caught by Craig who had reacted quickly. He could read the confusion in those dark eyes, as if wondering how on Earth someone as small as him was batting someone like Clyde around so easily._

"_Dude, what the hell?" Craig demanded. "What kind of pansy are you getting knocked around by this creep?"_

"_I'd be less worried about his masculinity and more about his gaping wound," he said idly, fiddling with the now-revealed knife in his hand that was stained with blood. It was kind of comical in a way as it looked like the knife was too big for him._

"_Holy shit!" Token swore as he saw the knife and took a step back._

_Frowning, Craig looked down at Clyde but for the life of him couldn't find anything wrong with his paling friend. As if the idea had struck him, he tore open Clyde's red jacket where now a spreading red spot could be seen staining Clyde's shirt._

"_Jesus…" Craig breathed, his eyes wide open in shock._

"_You might want to get him some help," he told the two boys as he picked up a discarded newspaper and began to wipe the blood off his knife. "Oh, and if you go telling anyone just how he got that," he continued, his eyes half-lidded yet sharp as they observed the light gleaming off his knife, "then I hope you're ready to learn what it'll be like to be an orphan."_

_By now, Craig was holding Clyde while Token was kneeling next to the wounded boy and trying to apply pressure to the wound so as to stem the bleeding. The black kid glared up at him and demanded, "What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"_

"_It means you tell that I stabbed Donovan here then I'll slaughter your parents," he said casually. "And before you start saying BS, think about this. If I'm able to stab someone my own age once, all it takes is to stab a few more times before a stabbing becomes a murder. And don't think I won't."_

"_Son of a bitch," Craig growled at him but it seemed like his point had gone across. The boy in blue was working to balance Clyde against him so that he could carry him to someone who could get him help._

"_No argument there," he replied as he threw the newspaper into the dumpster and strolled away, his knife uncovered and opened to the sight of any prying eye, "but this is one son of a bitch who's not going to be taking any of your shit."_

_He was practically grinning as he left, exiting from the opposite end of the alley and heading back into the residential district of town. In hindsight, he'd call himself an amateur for throwing that newspaper away instead of taking it with him to be destroyed as well as parading his weapon of assault out in the open instead of hiding it back into his coat. But at this time, he was in the midst of a high, a feeling that he couldn't remember ever having._

_And damn was it addicting…_

_He examined the large metal clad knife, his fingers stroking the metal of the handle lovingly. There was so much promise that this knife held. It was the first thing that ever gave him a semblance of power and even though there was a good chance that his threat would fall on deaf ears, he found that he didn't regret stabbing that bastard back there like a pig._

_This knife…oh, this knife would be the closest thing he would ever have as a friend, he realized as the kids at school would assume the truth, not knowing that their rumors weren't false but true. And if this knife was to be his only friend, then wouldn't his best friend have to have a name? Yes, it would, and right in that moment a name did pop up in his mind._

_Yes, he would name it…_

"Winslow."

Bain's eyes snapped open but no longer was there a hint of vulnerability nor a speck of innocence in them. No, his eyes were hardened, cruel even and anger, oh sweet anger was welling up in his body, traveling through his veins like a drug that he hadn't taken in a long time.

Yes, yes, there was a reason why he was hated so. And here in his hand, his fingers curled around the handle as if they grasped the hand of an old friend. For a time, he was utter helpless, left to those bastards' mercy and what did they do…?

Well, no more mister nice guy. They'd pay; they would all pay for their transgressions. Did they really think they would be getting away with this? Oh no, revenge would be a dish served cold and it would scar their memories for years to come, no decades!

Funny, that one girl DJ believed that this was all an act. Well, the act would start now and Shakespeare would cry tears of blood at the tragedy that was to unfold. He…he…

He blinked as all the untamable anger washed away. What…what had happened? For a moment there, it felt like he knew everything, everything from his past that he so desperately craved. But it looked as if it was all gone…all gone except for that one memory, the one that occurred in an alley where three of his present day tormenters had tried to corner him.

It was just one memory but even now he clung to it, not understanding the emotions behind it just yet. He clung to it as firmly as he clung to Winslow and for once felt possessive over it. He didn't want to share this memory with anyone but it shouldn't be too hard to keep it a secret, right?

If no one knew, they wouldn't question him about it. That logic was pretty straightforward, wasn't it? It seemed like there were so many possibilities, like he could see the world so clearly now as his mind seemed to absorb everything from his surroundings and file the information away in a highly compartmentalized system of storage. It was almost like he was thinking differently!

He felt clarity at long last as well as a hunger to find out more and with Winslow at his side, he felt an uncharacteristic surge of confidence that nothing would stand in his way.

* * *

It wasn't often that Charlie felt guilty but after hearing how Bain had run out of school was such a thing that put the foreign feeling into her. She couldn't help but feel that she had helped to make Bain run but she had felt so pissed that morning!

He hadn't been home when she came to pick him up and when she got to school, she found out that he was clinging onto the Mormon kid. Spending first period with a bunch of people asking her about where her "husband" was had further irritated her.

And despite being ticked off, she could now rationalize that when she had pulled him out from that locker, telling him to enjoy Gary like she had wasn't the best thing she could have done. Before she had gotten out of earshot, she had just starting hearing the murmurs of homophobia but instead of stopping and turning back, she continued forward confident that Bain would learn his lesson.

What that lesson was, even she couldn't tell you what it was.

So when she heard about Bain, she ignored the bit about Stan and how he needed to go to the nurse. Something had happened but for some reason, Stan wasn't talking about it, as if he was embarrassed about it. Well, whatever, she'd go track Bain down later, she told herself. She needed to be in a calm state of mind when she did.

It didn't occur to her that she had no idea of where to start looking for him until after she showed up at the Cynis household and found that he hadn't appeared.

* * *

Kyra was in _the zone_.

With her headset attached, her Xbox 360 fired up, and various snacks and liquids set up around her, she was good to go to kick some virtual ass. She jabbed at the A button, snipering another enemy off the map and smirking as she could hear the player she had just killed swear.

It was moments like these she lived for.

She didn't really speak into her headset as she liked the bit of anonymity she had. She player name was well-known in the gaming community and because she didn't speak, no one knew whether she was a girl or a guy which suited her just fine. Being sworn at and being called anything from bastard to bitch to smartass motherfucker and one time a moral less hermaphrodite was a guilty pleasure of hers.

She was moving her character to a new place to pwn some noobs, easily lobbing a sticky grenade onto an enemy player and blowing them to smithereens. She controller vibrated as she was struck by some gunfire but she had her character taking evasive maneuvers while picking up a rocket launcher and bombarding the general area of her attacker, killing a few other players who happened to be in the vicinity.

_Goddamn it! Where the hell is that son of a bitch hiding!_ a familiar whiny voice yelled from her headset and she smirked. _I'm gonna find that motherfucker and—ay! Who the hell fucking killed me? You again? Goddamn it!_

Wasn't she lucky to get in on a free-for-all battle and have Cartman here to pick on? He may have been a titan out there but on Halo, he was her bitch and she enjoyed assraping him each and every time.

_I think he's hiding in here_, came Stan's voice but instead of feeling shy or insecure, Kyra was feeling aggressive and she lied in wait until her newest victim popped in. _Aww! He got me! Token or Brandon, anybody! Fuckin' avenge me! Damn it, Butters, I know you're somewhere around here!_

_Hey Stan!_ Well speak of the devil, there was Butter's character…and now there was Butter's character getting sniped. _Aw hamburgers…_

_Goddamn it!_ she heard Stan swear. _Kyle, are you here? Where the hell are you dick?_

_Probably talking to some Canadian whore or something_, Cartman guessed. _Ey! Killed fucking again? God fucking damn it!_

The game came to an end and Kyra smirked at her name in the first place spot once again. Ah, that felt good. She picked up a bottle soda and chugged half of it down, wiping away some residue and signing on for another game. Putting her controller down for a moment, she stretched her arms above her head, moaning when she felt some pops in her arms and shoulders. Ah, that felt better…

As the next game began, she was already picking up some weapons and searching for a sniper rifle. With her sharp eyes, she caught movement and hid her character just long enough to see if another player was coming close. Counting down from three to herself, she came out of hiding, firing like it was the end of the world and killed the other player.

She frowned when her character suddenly collapsed and the current score of the game appeared on the screen. Okay, who the hell killed her? As the game beeped, signally that she was about to respawned, she grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed them in her mouth, wiping her hand off with a hand towel before tightening her grip on the controller and getting down to business.

As player after player fell to her rampage, she could feel the tension in her body slowly ebb away. She had woken up that morning with the intention of going up to Bain and possibly offer a hand of friendship or something. That plan, of course, went out the window the moment Bain was driven out of the school and she had to hear the voices of many of the guys boasting about it. However, what irked her the most was the reaction she had gotten from Kim about it during lunch.

She was really beginning to feel as if she should start distancing herself from the blond. Kim was really getting into the Bain torture and when she wasn't doing that or talking with Bebe, she could see her trying to talk with Kyle. Practically everyone knew about her crush on Kyle except for perhaps Kyle. For being one of the smartest kids in school, Kyle was sure oblivious to Kim's affections.

And of course, she would have to endure Kim sulking the rest of the day as her attempt to flirt with Kyle went nowhere once again. Kyra would say there would be karma going on there but she wasn't into the eastern religions.

Boom! Wow, pretty explosion. The players flying out of the fiery cloud were an added bonus to that as well as the chorus of shouts from the killed players.

Goddamn it, she just loved pwning noobs!

* * *

With the click of his mouse, Kyle sent his latest message to _hellspawn666_. Sure, he could be playing Halo Reach with the rest of the guys but he was more interested in chatting with his internet friend than pwning some noobs.

With the _ding!_ he eagerly read the latest message from _hellspawn666_. He had been telling her about the recent events at school and what was going on with the Bain situation. He had confided in her that he was unsure of whether or not he should still be a part of the thing as his conscience had begun to rear its head.

He did not want to express any of these doubts to the other guys, especially Cartman who would either call him a Negative Nancy or rip on him for being a Jewish killjoy. Both of those were not a desired outcome he wanted to face.

Reading _demonspawn666_'s response, he thought about what to say next. It wasn't like she was berating him or anything. Mostly it was just a bunch of huhs and really. It was as if _hellspawn666_ was apathetic to this whole thing. Sure she usually didn't seem affected by some of the stuff he had told her and when he told her about some really, really bad stuff, it seemed like it took her forever to respond.

Finally, deciding to fuck it and asking to know what was up with her, he typed: _Dude, you don't really seem to be mad about this. What's up?_ Reading over it and making a few changes, he sent the message and waited for the reply. The minutes seemed to drag on until, finally, he heard the _ding!_

_What do you expect me to say? I've never been in a situation where I've picked on someone with amnesia. Do you want me to say that you're pathetic for doing that? Tell you that it's not cool? To be honest, I don't really care that you're bullying a guy with amnesia._

He stared at the response flabbergasted. What the hell? Before he could compose a reply, there was another _ding!_

_I don't mean to sound like an ass. I can see you've been giving this a lot of thought and I don't want to put you down. This is just something that doesn't really get to me. At all. I don't know why either. But, you know, maybe we can talk about something else, okay?_

Okay, that kinda placated him a bit but he was still unsettled by _demonspawn666_'s previous reply. But c'mon, how could you not be disgusted by it? If the douchebags who called themselves social commentators got wind of this, they'd be crucifying and demonizing the town. It happened once when the town made a city ordinance declaring that all Harley riders were fags.

_This is just something that's bugging me. Sorry. I mean, I see some of the guys at school doing it and they don't seem to give two shits about it, like there was nothing wrong about it. But it is wrong. The guy doesn't remember shit so he won't understand why people are picking on him._ he wrote. Reading over it and making a few corrections, he sent the message and waited.

_I can see that this is really bothering you. Tell you what, why don't we meet up somewhere and talk face to face?_

If that wasn't a cause for alarm then at least it made Kyle tense up. Meet up? Face to face? They had only met online a few months ago and while he felt secure enough to share some things with _hellspawn666_, he wasn't sure that meeting her was going to help any. If anything, knowing him, he'd meet up with some pedophile who would kidnap him and rape him, giving him AIDS and make Cartman the happiest Anti-Semitic on the planet.

_I'm not sure…_ he wrote.

_You're thinking I'm some kind of child molester or something, right? Don't worry, I'm not anything like that. I'm not even that old. Tell you what, tell me the city you live in and if it's close enough, I'll drive there and meet you somewhere public, like a coffee shop or something._

Kyle bit his lip. He wanted to refuse but at the same time he wanted to accept. Hesitantly, he typed _South Park, Colorado_ and sent it.

Not a minute later, _hellspawn666_ replied.

_I know where that is. I've been there before but had to move away. I can be there in a jiffy if my dad will let me go. I'm positive he will._

In some way, he relaxed at that.

_Ever been to Tweek Coffee House? I can meet you there at 11 a.m. on Saturday._

_It's perfect. But to be sure you know who I am, I'm going to be holding an arm. Don't get spooked by it, okay?_

Figuring that it was just a manikin arm _hellspawn666_ was talking about, he agreed, feeling a bit lightheaded.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.


	11. A Bunch of Psychobabble

Author's Note: I have nothing to say. Just disappointed with the lack of response. It could be just because it was the Thanksgiving holidays or maybe there's a lack of interest in this story. I want to give a thank you to ShadowMajin for his help with the beginning of this chapter though. Well, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

A Bunch of Psychobabble

It was quiet. Too quiet. Quiet enough that Dr. Raizen looked up from his notepad to stare at his patient curiously, wondering why he wasn't talking.

Wait, he was in a session, right?

Well, he didn't where the boy left off, so it went for the default question.

"How does that make you feel?" he asked.

The patient (Bain right?) blinked back at him. "But…I already just told you that."

"Well…then how does feeling that way make you feel?"

"…the same?"

"We're making progress then!"

Bain stared back at him in confusion. "But…how are we making progress?"

"Because you admitted that you feel like you do about feeling like you do, it's kinda like admitting you have a problem, which you do," Raizen explained. "And because you admit you have a problem, that means we're on the path to recovery! Won't be long now!"

"But how does completing the first step of Alcoholics Anonymous mean we're making progress?" Bain asked.

Raizen shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh."

Silence. Raizen looked back at his notepad which was covered in little doodles, mostly of boobs, penises, one of Sigmund Freud, and a couple MILFs that he had seen the other day. Looking to his watch, he noted that only three minutes had passed. Damn it all, when the hell was this hour going to end? He was a doctor, not a brain surgeon! He had MILFs to plow and seeds to sow!

"Why are you here again?" he asked.

"Uh, because my mom made an appointment?" Bain asked.

"Well then your mom should be here!" Raizen exclaimed.

"But the appointment's for me," Bain said.

"It is? What for?" Raizen demanded.

"Because I have amnesia."

"You do? Then what the hell are you doing in my office?"

"Because you told me to come here."

"First of all, I would clearly _remember_ if you were one of my patients," Raizen said triumphantly. "Second, even if this _is_ your appointment, you should have made it yourself instead of your mom! It's only common sense!"

"But your planner says that you were expecting my appointment today."

"No it doesn't!" Raizen glared, getting out of his chair and pulling his daily planner out of his desk. "I—" he stopped as he saw indeed there was the boy's name and information, stating that he did have an appointment today at this time. Damn it all, betrayed by his own planner!

"Well…I was clearly drunk when I wrote this!" he defended, tossing the planner onto his desk without a second thought.

"But I watched you write it down and you were sober."

"Don't you think I would know I was sober? I was definitely sober when I wrote this. I know, I'm a brain surgeon after all!" Raizen stated, looking down at the boy.

"But why does your door say you are a psychiatrist?"

"…we're not here to discuss my problems, we're here to discuss yours, nutcase," Raizen said effortlessly. "So, tell me, why are you here?"

"I have amnesia?"

"That does sound serious. Well, nothing I can do for you, have a good life!"

"But you told me to come in today."

"I did? Right, I did! So what do you want to talk about now? Having any amorous feelings towards Mom?"

"No…"

Raizen stared at him quietly for a minute. "You sure? Because it's completely natural for a boy your age."

Bain rubbed his temples in frustration. Well, it looked like frustration but he was the doctor here, not him! "I'm sure," he grounded out, though his voice sounded less naïve and more dark. Eh, must have been his imagination.

"So no Oedipus complex? And you don't remember anything? Sounds like a classic case of amnesia to me," he said, turning to a new page in his notepad and drawing another penis. "Say, are you taking any drugs for your amnesia?"

"There are drugs for amnesia?" Bain asked, eyes widening in surprise.

"Of course not, moron!" Raizen scoffed. "Geez, you must be the dumbest patient I've ever had!"

Bain frowned. "Better than being named after an erection."

"How do you mean?" Raizen asked.

"Johnny Raizen? As in penis rising?" Bain said. "Couldn't you have come up with a better name or euphemism?"

"Now hold on a damn minute," Raizen snapped. "How the fuck do you know what a euphemism is?"

"Be..because I don't?" Bain said questioningly, as if realizing he had made a mistake somewhere.

Raizen was oblivious to this. "That's right, you don't," he agreed, adding a scrotum to his penis. "It's not like you're some freak or anything."

Bain's eyes were darting from side to side, as if searching for something before landing on a bust of Sigmund Freud, Raizen personal hero. Noticing that his patient was staring at something, he followed the boy's gaze to the bust before preening.

"Oh, like my bust, huh? I got it at a flea market for fifteen bucks! What a steal too!" he boasted.

"Can I hold it?" Bain asked.

"I don't see why not," Raizen shrugged, looking away just in time not to see a homicidal gleam in the boy's eye.

* * *

"Oh Sweetie! Are you done?" his mother asked as he left the psychiatrist's office.

He nodded once, his face the perfect expression of ambivalence.

"So when's your next appointment?" his mother asked as she started digging into her purse for her blackberry. "I wouldn't want you to get behind in your sessions now."

"Dr. Raizen said that I've made a lot of progress," he said to her. "He told me I didn't need to see him anymore."

"That's great!" his mother cheered as she embraced him, shoving his face right into her breasts. "My baby boy is such a trooper! Would you like some ice cream?"

He nodded his head, the last traces of irritation leaving his mind as the darker part of his mind relinquished control. Hmm, he was beginning to wonder what went on in with the doctor? The last he remembered, the doctor was asking if he was having any feelings towards his mother.

What was that all about?

* * *

Raizen held in a groan of pain as tears leaked out of his eyes. He was curled up on the floor of his office in absolute _pain_. He almost couldn't think straight, it was so painful.

But it wasn't that fact that his bust of Sigmund Freud was shoved halfway up his ass that caused him the most pain. What did was the fact that he wasn't going to see his patient's mother! He had been so close to tapping that MILF's ass!

Right now, he thought it would be best to call a doctor up to his office. His bust was killing him!

* * *

"To us, guys," Cartman said aloud, holding his carton of chocolate milk up as if it was a glass of wine or a beer can. "We drove that freaky loser out of this school! Sweet don't ya think?"

"Here, here!" Butters agreed readily, holding up his own carton.

The rest of the guys just stared blandly back at them, not even mustering the energy to flip the fat teen off.

"Goddamn it Butters," Cartman grumbled as he lowered his carton. "Why do you have to be so gay?"

"W-why, I'm sorry Eric," Butters said apologetically, though inwardly wondering what it was he had done to make Eric call him gay.

Cartman eyed the rest of them as they each picked out their food, not trusting the latest cafeteria worker who bore an uncanny resemblance to one Dr. Alfons Mephesto. He claimed not to be the "handsome gentleman from that superb lab" but there was his cafeteria assistant who he called Kevin who just stood there like Mephesto's Kevin. It was creepy.

Odds were the food was tainted. Not even Kenny was going to risk it.

"Okay, what the hell crawled up your asses?" Cartman demanded, slamming his hands on the lunch table.

Craig looked back at him with boredom painting on his face. "It wasn't that big a deal, fatass. You make it sound like we beat cancer or something."

"Well, yeah, that asshole was a cancer!" Cartman argued. "We got rid of it so that makes us heroes! Come on guys, live a little!"

Stan, who had a bandage on his forehead, barely glanced at him. "Dude, we do this every time."

"Fine," Cartman huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "At least tell me what the hell you did that had him running out of the school, hippie. I had a fucking door hit me in the face. It's the least you could do."

Kyle lifted his head up, shooting the fat teen a glare. "Don't you have any shame?"

"Should I?" Cartman asked sarcastically. "Really Kahl, you need to get that sand out of your vagina. It's gonna get infected and then you'll become a zombie Jew or some shit."

"Fuck you," Kyle seethed.

"Kyle, I have to agree with him," Stan spoke up. "Why are you getting so worked up about this? It was just some fun."

"Yeah, at the expense of a guy who can't remember what two plus two is," Kyle snapped back.

"Just get over yourself," Craig said. "You were a part of it as much as we were. No use trying to be holier than thou."

"For once, I agree with this asshole," Cartman added, Craig flipping him off again and this time not on reflex. "You have spitballs on your hands, Kahl, just like the rest of us."

"God, can you stop trying to play criminal mastermind?" Token suddenly snapped from where he sat. "It wasn't that big a deal, man. Bain's a pussy if he couldn't take a little teasing."

"Yeah," Clyde agreed.

"The only pussies around here are you guys."

Now that was a voice that didn't belong to anybody at this table. Their masculinity being questioned, all the boys shot a glare at their intruder, finding Gary the Mormon glaring back at them in disdain.

"Oh, if it isn't the faggy Mormon," Cartman sneered. "Worried about your boyfriend?"

"About my friend, yes," Gary replied. "I'm surprised you guys are worried about your dicks. Only dickless cowards would pick on a guy with amnesia."

"Say that again," Stan growled, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, so instead of just being dickless you're deaf now?" Gary said. "Wait, I shouldn't call you that; it'd be an insult to deaf people. My mistake."

Now he was receiving hostility from more than just Cartman; the rest of the guys who had been sitting there, watching the fireworks as if they weren't apart of them, were now standing up from their seats. It was mainly for the principle they were doing this, now because they felt offended by the Mormon's accusations.

Gary just rolled his eyes. "You guys aren't even worth it. Go ahead and try and beat me up. I dare you."

Cartman smirked. Too bad for this asshole he had a "get out of jail free card" from the principal. Taking the Mormon out in case Bain got the balls to come back would serve to terrorize the amnesiac. "Okay!"

"Sit your fat ass down," Kyle scolded from his seat having not bothered to stand up with the rest of the guys. "You couldn't take him if you tried."

"Want to say that to my face, Kahl?" Cartman demanded, spinning on his heel to face the Jew.

Kyle raised an eyebrow at him. "He'd just have to tap you and you'd be crying like a little bitch, ass."

Quickly forgetting about Gary in favor of engaging in his favorite pastime of hurting Kyle, Cartman said, "You wanna have it down, Jew? Come on then! I'll kick your scrawny ass back to Egypt! C'mon!"

However, before things could go further, there was the screeching of a chair being slid back followed by a scream. The boys turned their heads in the direction of the scream in time to find Brandon holding his right arm as the appendage mutated into a gigantic lobster claw.

Rushing out from the kitchen, the chef who was not Dr. Mephesto declared, "Yes! The experiment is a success!"

"Experiment?" Brandon shrieked, glaring the doctor down. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

"Oh, it's just a little concoction I put in the cafeteria food," Mephesto shrugged. "The governor wouldn't approve me any human test subjects for some reason and I really needed a guinea pig. Now I can mutate any creature I want into a mutant hybrid of some kind and possibly give them a superpower. Thank you, little boy."

"Oh yeah? Unless you get rid of this fucking claw, I'm going to be shoving this thing up your ass!" Brandon roared as he stomped towards the dead man.

"Hmm, aggression seems to have been increased," Mephesto murmured to himself, heedless of the danger that was slowly stalking towards him.

* * *

A big reason why Gary never seemed to be a part of the chaotic episodes that always happened in South Park was because he was smart enough to know when something had the potential to become outrageous and simply walk in the other direction. The events that were transpiring in the cafeteria were no exception to this.

He hadn't planned on confronting those guys but he had just happened to be walking by when he had overheard them badmouthing his new friend and he just had to insult them. It had been impulsive but he hadn't regretted it. If anything, he had been kinda hoping they'd try to fight him. It would give him a good excuse to defend himself and hand their asses back to them on a silver platter.

He had been on a wrestling team back in Utah and he knew how to brawl. Just because he let people pick on him sometimes as well as let them beat him up didn't mean he was a pussy by any means. He'd just been raised to be the best person he could be and not resort to violence. Oh course, just because he was raised with a nonviolent mentality didn't mean there weren't times when he just wanted to bash someone's skull in.

Using the intelligence that allowed him to have the grades to subtly be a member of his class' top ten, he began to think about how to protect his new friend. It was easy to reason that if Bain came back to school, those guys would try to pick on him again so he would have to figure out a way to stop the bullying before it could reach the helpless teen. He'd go and ask Charlie for help but for some reason that girl was withdrawing away from people. He knew about the history Charlie shared with Bain pre-amnesia and he figured that the change in their dynamic was taking its toll on her.

Well, whatever the case may be, if she wasn't going to set whatever differences she had with him then he was going to have to deal with this by himself. Not a favorable prospect but he was determined to at least try.

He tensed up as he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. It was strange that someone would approach him since most people in this school didn't care whether he was taking up their precious oxygen. He was used to making the first move so when he turned and found Kyra McCloud shuffling nervously behind him, he frowned slightly as he wondered what was going on.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"You're friends with Bain, right?" she asked shyly.

He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah; what of it?"

"Well…I wanted to know if there was anything I could do?" she asked.

"Do what?" Gary blinked, wondering what she was trying to get at.

"I want to help," Kyra confessed. "I mean, I know I've done nothing but that's just as bad as doing what the others are doing. I can't stand by like this anymore."

"Are you saying you want to help?" Gary asked, trying to wrap his mind around what the girl was saying.

"Yes!" Kyra exclaimed, drawing closer to the blond. "I can't…I don't want to do nothing but watch as those guys just do those things to him! I want to help you. Whatever I can do, please tell me and I'll do it!"

"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked suspiciously. If this was another ploy to try and trick Bain…

"How does Bain know to trust you?" she countered.

Gary quirked a smile. "You have a point but don't you think it's strange that someone who's sat on the sidelines is suddenly wanting to take an active part?"

"I do," Kyra sighed, "but that doesn't change that I want to help. Please give me a chance! I swear, I'll do whatever is in my power to help. Please!"

"Saying you want to help and doing it are two different things," he told her. "You do know that if you go through with this, odds are your friends are going to leave you and you'll be free game to them, right?"

"I already knew that would happen the moment I asked," Kyra answered.

Scratching the side of his head, Gary thought if there was anything else he could say that could feel this girl out and see if she was the real deal. Nothing came to mind and he decided, well, why the heck not? He couldn't isolate Bain from all human contact and more people the merrier, right?

Nodding, he gave her her answer and watched as her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

He had a gut feeling that what he was doing was the right thing.

* * *

"Is it just me or have you been hanging out back here a lot?" the red streaked Goth asked, blowing out a puff of cigarette smoke.

"You ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies," Charlie replied before taking another pull on her acquired cigarette.

"Whatever," the red Goth shrugged.

He had a point, Charlie admitted to herself inwardly. She had been spending a lot of time at the back of the school, begging cigarettes off the Goth kids but for what? That nasty habit of smoking was growing on her and she figured if this kept up, she'd become a girl version of Christophe.

Guess she had a lot on her mind…

She had heard all the talk about why Bain wasn't in school today. The most popular one was that Cartman and the others had run him out. She knew the truth though; he was at Hell's Pass, meeting with the psychiatrist there for an appointment. Odds were that his mother wouldn't make him come today and since he didn't _need_ to be here in the first place, he probably just the options that most kids in his position would choose and not come to school.

Her thoughts were focused on that guy an awful lot lately. Back at home, Tammy was getting worse with her crush on the guy so home was no more the sanctuary from Bain that it once was. She wanted to hit him for trying to start that shit back at Stark's but knew she wouldn't because it wouldn't give her any satisfaction. What could you get out of a guy who didn't remember shit?

Okay, sure, it'd feel great for the first five seconds but then she would feel that it was pathetic that she was hitting someone who couldn't remember what it was they did wrong.

Besides, she lived for the violent reactions she used to get out of him. It was what made her life interesting.

Recently, she had started to give the matter a serious thought. She knew she was pulling away from Bain but she was trying to figure out just why she was doing so. She regretted that she left him like that in the hallway yesterday after freeing him from that locker but she had just felt so pissed. She had never felt like that in her life, so why now?

The Mormon kid was butting into something he had no reason to be involved with, she felt. But was that stopping him? No. Couldn't he be a goody two-shoes somewhere else? Instead he had to come in like some knight in shining armor or something and now he had Bain eating out of the palm of her hand! And Bain couldn't tell if it was a scam or not to save his life!

"Jealous."

She jerked, scanning her eyes around to see who had made that noise. Unexpectedly, she found her gaze falling on Kuran who for once was standing right beside her, staring straight at her form as if he was studying a bug under a microscope.

"Excuse me?" she deadpanned.

"You're jealous," Kuran shrugged. "It's obvious if you pay attention."

Her fingers pinched the cigarette she was holding tightly. "What makes you think I'm jealous of that Mormon kid?" she demanded.

"I didn't say you were jealous of him," Kuran replied idly.

"Then how do you know I'm jealous?" she snarked.

"You just admitted it," he pointed out.

She opened her mouth to retort only to shut it. What…what the hell could she say to that? Now that she had thought about it, the kid only said she was jealous but not of what. She was the one to do that. Damn it, that was a classical psychological technique. What was it called, a Freudian slip? Eh, close enough. Well, whatever it was called, she should have seen it coming a mile away. Christophe used it on her often enough and it was freaking annoying.

She was losing her touch, getting soft in this post-Jack world.

"That's our Kuran," the tall Goth said, resting a hand on Kuran's shoulder. "He knows how to give a mindfuck when you least expect it."

Kuran's cheeks flushed slightly and he glanced away.

"You know, you really ought to purge that sexual frustration," Henrietta spoke around a puff of smoke. "Just screw the living daylights out of that psychopath already. It's getting annoying having to watch you every day pine like one of those cheerleading conformists."

"Amen," the tall Goth agreed, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah, it's not like we'll think any less of you or call you a slut," the red streaked Goth continued. "Only conformists do that."

"You know, I think I like you guys better when you said nothing," she told them dryly.

"Yeah, well only a conformist would say something like that," the red streaked Goth replied.

"But doesn't a conformist also try and pressure other people into doing things?" Kuran asked.

"Word," the smallest Goth agreed.

"Goddamn it, I love this freakin' kid," the red streaked Goth said as he spun Kuran around and gave him a juicy kiss on the lips. "What's say we skip and go home and have sex?"

"And here is where I leave," Charlie sighed as she eyed her ruined cigarette and dropped it onto the ground, grounding it under her shoe and heading back into the school. She ignored any conformist insult that may have been thrown at her but then again, she was also ignoring what sounded like a heavy make-out session in the making.

Hmm, skipping didn't sound like a bad idea now that she thought about it. Sure, if her mother found out she'd be pissed but right now, Charlie didn't feel like sticking around this place. She was surrounded by dicks and assholes and a Mormon. She was one psychopath away from going postal and unfortunately, that psychopath was M.I.A.

Maybe she could track Christophe down and get some advice from him. He had the dual ability to fuck her up mentally but also help her think straight and get a handle on things. A good place to start looking for him would be with Rhiannon but now that she thought about it, Rhiannon was also M.I.A. In fact, she hadn't seen her all day.

Now where was the rainbow colored party girl anyway?

* * *

Rhiannon sat in her bathtub with her old friends Ben and Jerry, using a large soup spoon to scoop out as much of her icy treat as possible and stuff it into her mouth. To say that she was depressed was an understatement. It could be said that she was devastated, destroyed, emotionally annihilated, and anything else that could be used to negatively describe her mood.

It was too bad there wasn't some manual out there that could help you when you find out your boyfriend was gay or bicurious at the least.

Fuck, she had told herself that she wasn't going to let this get her down and that she would go to school to prove that she was made of sterner stuff but the moment she had looked into a mirror, well, it had led her on a journey to the freezer and here she was.

Oh Ben. Oh Jerry. There was no deception with you two, was there? Everything about you was conveniently printed on your side including calorie intake and transfats and any other ingredient that used to make you. Yeah, so much harder to sue if she got fat.

She didn't care if she got fat. What did it matter? Why was it that these things kept happening to her? Her romantic life was always getting screwed up no matter what she did. She'd try and move on to someone else but…sigh, there was really only _one_ Sex God in this town and once you've been with him, there was no way to go back.

There was no one so sexy, strong, rugged, loving, sexy, trustworthy, protective, smart, sexy…Christ, she was making herself depressed again. It was like putting a new depression inside of an old depression that was inside a depression that was locked inside her subconscious in a depression that was in her dream!

Ben and Jerry had their work cut out for them.

* * *

Christophe knew that Rhiannon was still in her house. In fact, he was right across the street from the building, staring at it woefully. He hadn't wanted to hurt her but he knew how fragile she was. Her feelings were so easy to hurt and even if you tried to do it as gently as possible, she was going to be hurt.

It was just a fact, one that he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried but his own feelings were something that he always didn't have control over either. He couldn't help it if he felt something for Leo; the guy was so femmy and innocent that he had the urge to wrap him in his arms and hide him away from the world, just like what Miles tried to do on an everyday basis.

Yeah, times were hard for those two, especially since Miles had confided in him that he was dropping out of school. Bills were piling up, expenses were increasing, and they needed the money badly. He had offered to give Miles a loan but the guy had refused, whether out of pride or something, he did not know. And yeah, he had tried to talk Miles out of it but Miles was stubborn. Christophe knew that it was a huge mistake but he also knew it was Miles' decision.

Leo, though, wasn't aware of this yet but he soon would be.

Christophe did not envy the position Miles would find himself in.

But enough about that, he had more important things to think about, like how to make it up to Rhiannon for putting her through this. He'd go to Charlie for help but she had her hands full with the Bain situation, one that wouldn't exist if she had let him drown in the first place or not have forced him to give the psycho mouth-to-mouth.

He probably wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place.

Damn it, it seemed like everything went back to Bain in some way. If the bastard hadn't had amnesia, he would have suspected that he had planned for this to happen. He didn't need a reason either; he'd do it just to make them miserable.

However, he could only mark this up to chance. Things were happening, whether they were intended or not and it didn't matter if he liked them or not he was going to have to deal with them.

But how was he going to go about it? It seemed like he was faced with insurmountable obstacles. His experience as a mercenary, though, taught him that no matter the odds, you pushed forward. He was going to have to deal with these new feelings welling up within him and try to apologize to Rhiannon for putting her through this. He'd have to leave it to her friends to get her out of her house and until then, he would deal with himself.

* * *

Bain was feeling irritable when he saw his sister's pink car still in the driveway after getting some ice cream and leaving the hospital. He knew he didn't know much about how the world worked but he was sure that she needed to be getting back to college sometime.

Within his coat, his hand clasped onto Winslow's handle and that allow gave him the thought that he was going to have to do something about this. Glancing at his mother, he knew she wouldn't be of any help getting his sister out of the house and using his father would only work if he could find him.

So by default he could only use what was available to him which was him himself.

He had been told so many times that he was smart but he just couldn't use that intelligence to come up with anything. Even now as he stood outside her door while she remained downstairs, gossiping with his mother. Those fucking whores…

Huh, where did that thought come from? He had never felt such negativity from such a thought, much less one of his own. It had just popped up in his head for no reason whatsoever. Hoping to distract himself from the distressing thought, he went right into his sister's room and stood in the middle of it, searching for something that he couldn't identify yet would know that it would be valuable to his efforts.

He found his eyes were focusing on that collection of dolls that rested on his sister's dresser. He was always creeped out by them but not today for some reason. It was as if something was telling him that those dolls were the key to getting rid of Sierra. The next thing he knew, he had one of the dolls in his hands and he was tearing the head off of it, twisting and pulling until he decapitated it.

Staring at the damaged doll, he wondered what next. This had been spur of the moment yet he felt so…satisfied, as if he had been wanting to do this for a long time. So what was done was done, what did he do now? He figured that Sierra would notice her doll missing but where could he hide it that she wouldn't think to look?

His mind must have been running a mile a minute because the answered popped up in his mind: the trunk of that pink monstrosity of a car. Sure she'd have to look in it sometime but she wouldn't look there until it was too late. Too late for what though? His eyes drifted over the rest of the dolls and he knew that he was going to destroy each and every one of them. It was instant how he came to that decision and before he could stop himself, he had another doll in his hands and he was tearing its head off after taking out Winslow and practically slicing it vertically in half.

Another one joined it and another and another until half of the dolls surrounded his feet, their glassy eyes staring up accusingly at him but instead of trembling in fear at the audacity of what he was doing, it was instead feeling a thrill. It was like he could see the faces of his tormenters from school in the faces of the dolls.

He was doing more than destroying these dolls; he was killing them.

Yes, he was killing them.

And he was enjoying every. Single. One.

* * *

He was finishing up in the bathroom when he heard the shriek and he couldn't hide the smirk that grew on his lips. She must have discovered that her precious collection of dolls were missing. Well go ahead, try and accuse him. It wouldn't stand up if she didn't have proof.

He jolted as he heard someone bang against the door. Huh, she was reacting a bit violently wasn't she?

"You little fuckwad! What did you do to them?" he heard Sierra shriek at him through the door. He remained silent, poised at if ready to bolt at any time. He was counting on the locked door to protect him but he wouldn't be surprised if she broke it down to get at him.

The door rattled as bang after bang railed against it. "Get out here you bastard! What did you do with them? Fucking bitch! Open the door! I'm going to tear your balls off and shove them down your throat!"

He could hear someone coming up the stairs. Ah, reinforcements were here. He was counting on this, one of his parents coming up to find out what was going on. Sierra would give her twisted version of it and he would profess his own twisted innocence. His would be more believable; for once he was going to use his amnesia for something productive.

"He took my dolls!" he heard Sierra exclaimed. He hadn't heard anyone speak to her but telling by how quiet it was, he assumed that his invisible father would be the one dealing with this.

He heard a knock on the door, calmer than the ones made by Sierra, followed by his father's deep bass. "Bain? Could you open the door please?"

Purposely letting a tremor into his voice, he asked aloud, "Is she going to hit me?"

"No, Sierra is not going to be doing anything," his father answered, his words becoming more strict as if they were being spoken not to him but to someone else. "Now, will you please open the door so we can talk?"

He took his time going to the door and slowly he undid the lock, "timidly" twisting the handle and opening the door. He felt a twinge of fear from the glare Sierra was leveling at him but his father's uncharacteristic commanding presence seemed to be keeping her at bay.

"Yes?" he asked softly.

"Your sister has told me that you've taken some of her things," his father said calmly. "Now, I'm not saying you did but what I want to hear is whether or not you are responsible. Just tell me if you did or didn't."

He let his head sink slowly, "No."

"That's bullshit!" Sierra screamed.

Their father gave her a look but because she was glaring at him, she didn't see it. However, his arm came up and barred her way to him. "Sierra, why would he take you dolls?" he asked.

"Ask him!" she snarled. "He's the only one who would take them! He's probably hiding them in his room! I'm going—"

"Sierra," their father's voice boomed unexpectedly. "Don't threaten your brother. If he says he didn't take them, then he didn't take them."

"But he's lying!" Sierra protested weakly. "My dolls didn't just stand up and walk away on their own!"

"They probably did," their father shrugged. "Stranger things have happened in this town."

They all stopped what they were doing as there was a loud booming sound in the distance followed by an animalistic roar. A minute after the roar ended, their mother showed up.

"Honey, there's a giant boy with a lobster claw for an arm just outside of town," she said calmly. "Everybody in town is forming a posse to go try and kill it before Godzilla resurrects in Salt Lake City. Can you be a dear and activate the landmines so that no one tries to loot the house?"

"Yes dear," their father replied. "Can you handle the kids?"

"Of course," their mother said effortlessly. "I think it would be a great time for them to go to bed now."

"But we haven't had dinner yet!" Sierra protested. "And Bain did something to my dolls!"

"We'll discuss it over breakfast," their mother said flippantly. "Now go to your rooms."

"But Mom!"

"Go to your rooms," their mother stated darkly.

With such a command, there was no questioning it. Bain found himself halfway through his doorway before he stopped himself. He thought for a moment what he was doing and shrugged before going in and shutting the door. He could still hear his sister protesting but they were coming pathetically weak to the point he couldn't hear her anymore.

This was working far better than he had hoped.


	12. A Corrupting Influence

Author's Note: This first part comes from a story called _I Used to Dig Holes_ by Zephyr Morpheus Lee, formerly known as DefectCriminal. More or less, it is a different perspective of an event that occurs in IUTDH's first chapter so if you want to see the other side of it, go read that. Some of the words are word for word but hey, it's good for a set up. Zephyr Morpheus Lee, if you are out there, here's a shout out to you. Haven't heard from you in a while. For the rest of you, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, slight violence

A Corrupting Influence

_It was chilly out but not enough for him to abandon his trenchcoat at home. He hadn't bother to wait until sleep was out of his system; he was out of his warm bed and at his closet, grabbing the first thing his hand grasped. Only after suiting up and donning the black cloth of his favorite garment did he tromp downstairs to the kitchen and grab something light to satisfy him until lunch before going out of the door._

_As he entered the driveway, he paused and glanced at a large tarp. He could drive to school if he wanted but he wasn't the type to show off material possessions. Besides, why waste the gas when he could just take the bus? Sure the bus stop was a ways away but distance had never been considered an obstacle for him._

_It was about ten to fifteen minutes later when the stop appeared in his vision and another minute for him to make out two forms standing beside it. Just perfect, he had to be around people sooner than he wanted. As he drew closer, his mood became even fouler as he recognized the large form of Christophe DeLorne. A few feet closer and he was able to see the epileptic sight of Rhiannon Edwards beside him._

_Damn it, he would have to leave Winslow at home today. Though, it wouldn't have made much difference if he had since the French bastard was watching him from the corner of his eye while smoking casually. If he hadn't been there, he'd have a prime opening to wrap his hands around that colorful bitch's neck…_

_Well what do you know? With a hand in a pocket, he noticed that he wasn't completely unarmed today; he had brought his switchblade with him but it would be best if he let that remain concealed for now. He'd just have to wait for the Edwards bitch to be vulnerable and then he could go in for the—_

"_You mind if I have a smoke? I ran out Saturday."_

_What the? Damn it, he had been too deep in his thoughts, so much so that he hadn't noticed the appearance of a fourth party. Oh great, it was another cunt. He resisted the urge to curl his lip and proceeded to ignore this new girl. They had another female. They were breeding like fucking rabbits; at this rate, they'd be up to their ears in bitches, cunts, and whores._

"_Le froid ici fonctionne des merveilles pour vos yeux, parce que elles n'ont jamais été si brunes. Et vos regards de peau aussi luxorious que la soie blanche en vert. J'ai manqué à quel point bon vous avez regardé en bref, aussi bien."_

_Oh no, that French piece of shit was using that shitty language of his. Other than considering the French to be a bunch of surrender pussies, he had nothing against them until that French fuck got in his way between him and the Edwards bitch's mortal coil and refused to move._

_An obstacle that just didn't know when to stop._

_He couldn't help it, it just slipped through his lips. "I hate Frenchie fuckers."_

_The new girl cocked her head towards him, a lit cigarette in hand, and said heatedly, "You got a problem, punk?"_

"_Yeah, I do," he growled, turning fully to face the girl, his murderous eyes boring into her. "Speak fucking English or you don't wanna know what I'll do." Strange, he was usually more eloquent than this. Maybe it was the way the girl was looking down at him with those fiery brown eyes of her. Maybe it was because she was the first girl in quite some time to stand up against him. It was pissing him off and he was fingering his unopened switchblade unconsciously._

"_Is that a threat, because I know how to deal with threats, fuck-face," the girl spat at him, shooting a wad of spit from her mouth to stain the ground in front of him._

_So he had a tomboy on his hands. Well, he knew how to deal with tomboys. With his free hand, he swung a punch aimed straight for her face, not holding back even an iota of strength. To his surprise, the girl _almost_ dodged his blow though he did graze her eye. He didn't have time to appreciate it, though, as the girl was behind him almost immediately and before he could recover, he felt her land her foot in the back of his neck._

_He stumbled to the ground, his once fisted hand now pressed protectively against his neck. Anger exploded within him at the _audacity_ this bitch had in fighting back. He heard her say something while passing her cigarette to the French bastard but her eyes never left him. It was as if she knew what she was doing and that just served to infuriate him further._

_There was no way he was going to let her get the upper hand on him!_

_He was back on his feet and charge at him, simultaneously whipping out his switchblade but he was unable to do anything yet as she rushed _him_ and landed a punch in his face which was followed by a roundhouse kick. Pain exploded where his nose was and he didn't have to feel it to know something was broken._

_This whore was going down._

_He stabbed his blade at her, feeling elated when he felt the warm sensation of blood touch his skin. However, that came at the price of her wrestling the switchblade from him and a foot impacting his stomach harshly. He felt air exit his lungs but he wasn't about to let this moment of weakness get the best of him. He swung his fist again and this time his aim was true as he managed to punch her in the face. It was a short lived victory as she somehow managed to kick him in the chest and place a hand over a part of his body which she then pinched._

_Hard._

_He clutched at the spot she pinched as pain overloaded his brain and he fell to the ground. He was able to cling onto consciousness just long enough to hear the Edwards bitch revel in his defeat._

_But it was not her that his fury was focused on. No, it was that new girl whose name he hadn't heard yet. He would learn it soon, commit it to memory even._

_He would never forget—_

"Charlotte."

His eyes snapped open and he stared at the white ceiling above him blearily. Had…had that been another memory? It felt so real, so much so that he could feel all the emotions invested in it. However, he could no longer recall those emotions anymore as like a dream, they are escaped his mental grasp.

But there she was, Charlotte. The girl that had been so kind to him since he had first awoken in the hospital. Was that how he really felt about her when he first saw her?

He clutched at his head as it throbbed and clenched his eyes shut, just wishing for it to stop. It was so painful…

_Who is she? Why do these morons know her? And damn it, why doesn't she just be a good little girl and let me slit her throat? Wait, wait, maybe I'm going about this wrong. Maybe attacking her physically isn't the right way to do this…maybe I need to attack something that isn't as heavily fortified…_

_Alright Charlotte White, I have my eye on you. I'm going to tear your psyche apart and by the time I'm through with you, you'll be _begging_ for my knife._

He gasped out loud but continued to hold his head tightly as other thoughts rang into his mind.

_Her voice's not that bad…_

_I'm in pain, yes, but it was worth it. Who'd have thought that the way to your subconscious was through your family? Looks like I win this round._

_Well, well, well, if it isn't the high and mighty. Hiding are we? This is just too good an opportunity to miss! Oh poor little Charlotte, the things I'm about to do to you… By the time I'm through, you'll have regressed to being a toddler and need to be housebroken. That is the least of what you deserve for even _thinking_ you can hide your past from me._

He was panting harshly, those evil, _evil_ thoughts bombarding him without end. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the headache was gone. He remained laying there, gasping for air and whenever he tried to use his nose, he found that he couldn't use it properly as it was stuffed with something.

Slowly getting his breathing under control, he removed his hands from his face but froze as he saw a smear of something red on them. Bringing one of the hands close, he pressed a finger close to his nose then pulled it away, eyeing it in horror as he saw the blood on it.

His headache had been so bad that it had caused a nosebleed…

To say he was frightened was an understatement but he didn't want anybody finding out about this. He'd just clean up and go on about the day as if nothing had happened. Yeah, that's what he'd do! He'd just keep this to himself and no one would pester him about it. They'd just leave him alone about it, just the way he liked it.

Just the way he liked it…

* * *

Charlie definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. Maybe it was her mood or maybe it was the stress but when she got out of bed, she was cranky to say the least.

It didn't help either that she found Tammy pouting at her whenever she was in sight. Her sister had been expecting for Bain to show up yesterday and when he hadn't, she blamed Charlie for his absence.

There was just no winning with her.

So she took the path of least resistance and let Tammy do her pouting while she got ready for school. Needless to say, she was out of there like bat out of hell as things were just starting to become awkward.

In her rush to get out, she almost trampled over someone who had the misfortune of being in her way as she came out the front door. Imagine her surprise to find out that it was none other than Bain who was currently sitting on his ass and rubbing his forehead as if he had been hit there.

She rolled her eyes but nevertheless helped him back onto his feet, taking a little time to brush off his backside to make him more presentable. Even after all this time, he still seemed to have the need to be cleaned up after. For some reason, she didn't feel the slightest resentful about it. She just didn't feel as if this was an obligation that she had to do just that she had to do it for no other reason than to do it.

It was complicated.

"Should have told me you'd be waiting for me," she grumbled as if trying to save face.

Bain didn't reply. He just stared at her as if there was something on his mind that he wanted to talk to her about and yet couldn't muster up the guts to talk about it. His face alone had that sort of constipated look and that was a dead giveaway if she ever saw one.

Sighing, she squared her shoulders and asked, "What?"

Bain stared back at her for another moment before finally saying, "We didn't used to get along, did we?"

Wow. Of all the things he could have said, he had to state something that was not only obvious but the most talked about part of their lives. _Everybody_ knew how they would fight another whenever the opportunity presented itself. Last she heard, someone had started taking bets on which one of them was going to win.

To her disappointment, the odds were usually tied.

It was then that the meaning behind what Bain had just said hit her. He didn't remember anything before waking up in the hospital and nobody outside of her and the Mormon kid bothered to talk to him; how did he know anything about what they used to do, that is if Gary hadn't brought the topic up.

Bain must have picked up from her face that she knew what he was talking about because before she could demand any answers from him, he continued. "I had this dream last night. I think it was me but I couldn't really say. There was just so much…something. I don't know what it was but it was burning. And then I was at this bus stop where there were two people. One was this big guy who looked dirty and smoked and the other was this girl that looked like a rainbow. Next thing I know, you're there and the guy is saying something I can't understand and then I'm trying to hit you."

She held a hand up, gesturing for him to stop. What he was saying, it sounded really familiar. However, before she could say anything, Bain was staring at her hand and it was belatedly that she realized that the hand she was holding up was her left hand.

The same hand in which Bain had cut when they had first met.

"Did I…?" Bain trailed off as he raised a hand of his own try and feel out the scar, stopping just before he did touch it as if having second thoughts on whether or not he wanted to find out if it was real.

Charlie sighed to herself. She was showing a lot of patience right now, wasn't she? Especially since she woke up this morning in a bad mood.

Now, she was at a crossroad. Either she could tell him the truth and say yes, he did give her this scar or she could flat out lie and say no. Odds were she was going to let slip the fact that yes he did so if she told him no, it'd just make it worse. Honesty seemed the right policy for right now.

"Yeah, but it was more of an accident," she shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "I was trying to take your knife away and ended up getting my hand sliced open. No biggie."

There, now no matter what his memories would tell him, they would do nothing more than reinforce her words. Yeah, she felt good right now.

"Oh." Bain lowered his hand as well as his head. It was like he was ashamed or something. "I'm…I'm sorry."

Whoa! Hold the presses! Did she…? Did she just hear Bain Cynis _apologize_? Yes, yes she had. She wondered if today was the day of the apocalypse or if the heater in Hell busted down and the AC was on full blast.

"Hey, I'm not sore about it," she said hastily. "It just happened! That's all! Don't get bent out of shape over it!"

"Okay," Bain mumbled, shifting his weight from leg to leg uneasily.

"_You know, you really ought to purge that sexual frustration. Just screw the living daylights out of that psychopath already."_

Why, oh why was she thinking about that fat Goth chick's words at a time like this? She couldn't screw Bain, especially with the way he was now! It'd be like pedophilia! Still, the way he was looking so forlorn now, she supposed she could do something about it…

She cupped one of his cheeks and raised his head up enough so that he had to look at him. Unbidden, she leaned forward and pecked her lips on his opposite cheek. Bain blinked up at her in confusion though there was a slight blush on his cheeks now. Christ, instead of looking like his usual homicidal self, he was actually cute.

Cute and Bain should never be in the same sentence together unless there was a not between them.

Maneuvering her arm so that it now rested on Bain's shoulders, she began to lead him towards school, walking at his side like she was an old friend and not a bitter…well, whatever she was to him before the amnesia had set in.

Regardless of that, she still recalled what that Kuran kid had said to her yesterday. She was jealous, eh? Well, as she had told Jack as he laid on the floor of their abandoned house, bleeding to death, Bain was hers.

She supposed that perhaps she was a bit possessive.

Just a bit, though.

* * *

Alright, so she wasn't just a little bit possessive.

The moment the two of them had arrived at school, who was there waiting for them? Gary the Mormon in all his cheeriness and today he had someone waiting with him. If she recalled correctly, that was Kyra McCloud standing right next to the blond and she too was smiling…straight at Bain…now this was starting to get ridiculous.

"Good morning Bain!" Gary greeted. "It's great to have you back!"

Bain, meanwhile, was blinking dumbly at the Mormon as if he hadn't expected such a greeting. "Okay," he said slowly.

"Oh, before I forget," Gary continued, "this is Kyra. She wanted to meet and get to know you so if you have anything you want to talk about, she's right here for you."

"Hi," Kyra said, smiling warmly at Bain. Charlie didn't like it though she couldn't tell you why. In fact, she liked this less than Gary for some reason. Maybe it was because Kyra was a girl and she felt her territory was being intruded upon. Whatever the reason was, she was eyeing Kyra critically, as if daring for her to move an inch into Bain's personal space.

She didn't need any more competition for Bain's attention.

She did not just think that.

Fuck!

So there was the four of them heading to the school, Charlie on one side, Gary and Kyra on the other. Bain looked uncomfortable, probably because he wasn't used to being surrounded by so many people or maybe because the last time so many people gathered around him he ended up in a trashcan. She wouldn't blame him if he freaked out.

"Wanna go to class with me?" Gary asked in the upbeat tone of his. Charlie narrowed her eyes at that.

"He's coming with me," she told him matter-of-factly. Uh uh, she wasn't sharing him today, thank you very much!

"How about he comes with me?" Kyra asked shyly.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at that. "Do you think you could protect him if these assholes try to pick on him?"

"Of course!" Kyra said readily.

"And aren't you friends with Bebe and Kim?" she pointed out. "I think Kim has it out for him."

"True," Kyra mumbled, "but wouldn't it be better if we mix it up? They won't be able to plan tricks in advance."

"She has a point," Gary agreed.

"Well, well, didn't expect for you to show your face around here you fag."

Charlie glared at the sight of a smug Cartman who had just interrupted their little debate. Yeah, here was the worst of them in all his chubby glory. She didn't like how he had one of his hands behind his back, an obvious sign that he was hiding something.

"Oh, didn't expect to see your rolls of fat so early," Charlie retorted back, rolling her eyes.

"Ey! It's not fat! My ribs just stick out farther than normal!" Cartman snapped back. In his indignation, he planted both of his hands on his hips, including the hand he had hidden behind his back that was now revealed to have a water balloon in it. Apparently forgetting that he had been holding it, he had pressed it against his hip harshly and that had caused enough pressure to allow it to pop and drench the side of his leg in cold water. "Fuck!" he howled. "Now look what you made me do!"

"It looks like you pissed yourself," Kyra spoke up impulsively.

"Well, yeah, if his dick was pointed that way," Charlie agreed. "Must have drank a lot of soda."

"Oh fuck you guys," Cartman snarled, glaring at them murderously. "Seriouslah, fuck you guys so hard."

"Ees zhere a problem?" came a smooth voice. The teens then noticed that there stood Principal Estrada who was watching them as if they were nothing more than a family friendly sitcom. His eyebrows rose as he eyed the large wet stain on Cartman's pants. "Why _Senor_ Cartman! Your pants! What happened?"

Cartman blinked dumbly at the man before a conniving smirk graced his lips, disappearing almost immediately as he began to shed crocodile tears. "Principal Estrada," he sniffed, pausing after every few words as if he was actually crying, "I was just…minding my own business…and that kid right there…in the black coat…he…he threw a water balloon at me…for no reason…and I was just minding my own business…"

Charlie, Gary, and Kyra stared blandly at the fat teen. Charlie felt herself inwardly cringing at the bad acting; only an absolute moron would fall for such a—

"Oh poor _Senor_ Cartman!" Principal Estrada fawned over the obese teen, placing a reassuring hand on Cartman's shoulder. "You should go to zhe nurse's and zee eef you need to go home. Zhees had to be a traumatic experience for you."

Okay, she stands corrected. The principal was a moron.

"You're…you're so nice…" Cartman blubbered.

"You are a studeent," Principal Estrada said as the gently shooed the fat teen away. "Eet ees my responsibility to make sure no one geets hurt een my school."

Oh, so this asshole was suddenly the greatest principal in the world? Hadn't he threatened to fail her if she didn't leave Bain alone? And why the hell was he accepting Cartman's sob story so easily?

"Zhat was not a good theeng you deed, _Senor_ Cynis," Principal Estrada spoke, his voice no longer friendly but stern. "Zhees school does not accept bullyeeng. For zhees infracture, I am giveeng you afterschool detention."

"What?" Charlie exclaimed. "Are you high? Cartman's been bullying Bain all this time yet you've done shit about it!"

"No curseeng een my school, _Senorita_ White," Principal Estrada reprimanded. "Would you also like an afterschool detention?"

"First you threaten me, then you pull this shit?" she snarled. "Who the hell do you think you are you fucking creep?"

"Detention," Principal Estrada snipped, handing it out like he did it all the time. "I expect to zee both of you zhere on zhe dot."

Oh, this asshole was just _asking_ for it…

"If they have detention, then so do I!" Gary exclaimed, staring down the principal determinedly. "It is not fair that my friend has to be punished for something he _didn't_ do while Eric Cartman gets away with whatever he wants!"

"_Senor_…er…leettle boy," Principal Estrada said, "just go on to class. Why would you want an afterschool detention? You've done notheeng wrong."

"It's Gary Harrison to you, dickwad," Gary spat at the man. "The only thing being done wrong is you having a job here so why don't you suck on my balls?"

Principal Estrada's face reddened but it was easy to see that it was out of anger than anything else. "Detention," he half-snarled."

"Give me one too," Kyra suddenly spoke up. "If…if Bain is guilty then so am I!" she declared, her voice picking up strength with each and every word she said.

"Detention must be very popular," Principal Estrada commented. "If zhat ees what you crave, detention."

"Dude," a new voice spoke up. The principal's head spun to glare at the interloper, his nostrils flaring as he glared down Kyle and Stan.

"Would you like a detention too?" Principal Estrada snapped. "I can do zhees all day."

Neither of the two boys said anything but it was obvious from the looks they were giving the principal that they weren't thinking highly of him. Stan shook his head as if he was a parent who was disappointed in their child and turned around in disapproval, Kyle copying him as the two left.

"Zhat's more like eet," Principal Estrada commented, nodding to himself as if everything was right in the world. He sent a stern look at the four of them and said, "Detention ees at four. Don't be late."

As the principal left, Charlie flipped him the bird behind his back. She knew she was going to have to do something about this asshole and she was going to have to do it soon. She hadn't associated with him before and if she thought about it, it hadn't been until after Bain came back to school that she began seeing more of him.

She was going to have to sick Christophe on him. This asshole needed an asskicking so bad.

Throughout the exchange, none of them had noticed the frown that had grown on Bain's face or the way his fingers were twitching.

* * *

"Please tell me I heard wrong."

Kyra jerked in her seat as her eyes snapped over to see Bebe and Kim eyeing her as if she was an alien lifeform. "Heard wrong about what?" she asked.

"You tried to stick up for that Bain kid," Kim said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Tell me that that's a rumor because I don't want to know what's going inside that head of yours."

"Well, you heard right," Kyra said defensively.

"What is wrong with you?" Kim demanded. "Seriously! Why are you trying to be nice to that asshole?"

Bebe shifted in her seat uncomfortably, "You've never done something like this before, Kyra. We're worried about you."

Kyra felt touched by that last bit, she really did, but she knew she needed to stand her ground here. She knew what her friends were up to; they didn't like what they were hearing and were hoping on putting an end to her resolve before it could hurt them socially.

"How do you know it's something I wouldn't do?" she asked pointedly.

However, she didn't get her answer from either Bebe or Kim but from DJ who was throwing her a glare. "You're falling for that bastard's act hook, line, and sinker," she said coldly. "I always thought you were better than this."

"I hate to admit it but corpse girl is right," Bebe agreed. "Kyra, we care about you. We're just trying to keep you from doing something that you'll regret."

"Thanks but no thanks," she stated bluntly. "You may not like it but what I know what I'm doing and I'm doing it because I want to."

Bebe stared at her as if she had never seen her before. "Kyra!"

Now, Kyra was someone who didn't like alienating other people as she could feel the fluctuations of her self-esteem as they rose and fell. Alienating other people was a surefire way to lower her self esteem but right now, she never felt better in her life. She was standing up for something she believed in, not caring what others thought of her.

"If you're going to be his little bitch, no skin off my back," Kim spat. "I hope that fucking prick rapes you."

"You know what, you're not a pleasant person to be around," Kyra shot back, not feeling an ounce of horror at what she was doing. "You're nothing but a bitchy shrew; the only reason people want to go out with you is for your looks. And Kyle would _never_ go out with someone like you. If anything, he'd be repulsed!"

"You shut up," Kim growled at her.

There was a snort from DJ but none of the girls were paying any attention to it.

"Kim! Settle down," Bebe cautioned. Turning her attention back to Kyra, she said, "What's gotten into you Kyra? It's like you're a completely different person!"

"Who said that I wasn't like this?" she countered.

For once, she was feeling on top of the world and there was nothing that could tear her down. Maybe she should have done this a long time ago.

* * *

Another one is falling for the act, great. DJ snorted to herself. She knew the truth, knew that Bain's overly elaborate scheme was a hoax. She had been keeping an eye on the boy closely and had watched him sneak some torn up dolls into the trunk of a hideous pink car the day before. He couldn't hide his true self from the world forever and catching him red-handed had been a treat in and of itself for her.

She didn't interrupt him from his task because in this case, having proof that she was right was all she needed. She would give him props though, he did last a long time doing this charade.

Plus, whether she would admit it or not, she was slightly enjoying the drama that was stemming from this. The breaking of the trio of girls that was Bebe, Kim, and Kyra was entertaining.

However, it was getting time for her to do something. Sure she could revel in the fact she knew the truth but wouldn't it be better to pull the sheet off Bain's plan and be able to say to everyone "I told you so"?

It wasn't for the glory or the fact she would be able to say "I told you so" to the rest of the kids in school. No, she would do it because she was getting bored.

Watching the fireworks as everyone pounded that asshole into the ground would be all the pay she would need to do this.

* * *

Kyle was exuberant during his computer class. No, it wasn't because of all the stuff he was hearing Ryleigh gossip about or the fact that he was going to be getting some dirt on Cartman.

It was because, by some miraculous coincidence, _hellspawn666_ was online and he was in a chat room with her, telling her all about what he had seen that morning.

_Your principal sounds like a douche_.

Kyle rolled his eyes at that and typed _Tell me about it_. and sent the reply.

He was careful to have the computer's volume off; no sense in alerting everyone that he was not doing classwork, which he had complete a long time ago, or getting on their incompetent teacher's bad side. Said teacher was still reading the manual for the computer, still trying to figure out just out to use it and was heedless that everyone in the class had mastered what he was still trying to figure out.

_You must not like this man. Would you like me to do something about him?_

Kyle smiled and typed, _That's sweet of you but really, I don't think you could. The guy has some kind of stranglehold on the school district, kinda like Mr. Garrison. Did you know that the only reason he's teaching high school is because he'd rather learn a new curriculum than learn some other kids' names?_

_So Mr. Garrison's a man now? That sounds like something he would do._

_Yeah, and he hates the principal. Calls him a wetback behind his back all the time too._

_Ooh, so he's racist too?_

_Just against Mexicans_.

Ah, rapid fire replies, how he loved thee. It was better than e-mailing and having to wait a few minutes for the next reply but then again in a class like this, they wouldn't be able to say much in the short amount of time they had.

After reading _hellspawn666_'s following reply, he decided to switch the topic to something else. _I can't wait until tomorrow. We're finally going to meet, huh?_

_It's going to be a day you'll never forget_.

He smiled giddily to himself. That was just the answer he wanted to hear…er, read. Sorry Stan but he had a date tomorrow.

_Oh, don't try to dress nice, just come casual._

Huh, now how did _hellspawn666_ know he was planning on dressing up for this occasion? Well, if she wanted him casual, casual she would get.

* * *

"Don't you think this is getting a bit out of hand?" Wendy asked as she eyed Kim worriedly.

Watching as the slender blonde was glaring holes at Bain who sat at the other side of the cafeteria, their "former" friend Kyra seated with him instead of where she suppose to be, Bebe was beginning to agree that her oldest friend had a point. Kim was changing, her hatred towards the smaller teen altering what the other girls knew to be a sweet and generous person who could sometimes be a bitch into a mean, class A bitch shrew.

Now, they knew that the blonde had a grudge against Bain as he had tormented her years ago and made her first day of school in South Park hell so it was accepted that she'd want to get back at the bastard. However, both Wendy and Bebe were beginning to see just how into this grudge Kim was and frankly, it was concerning.

Now with Kyra apparently defecting, it looked as if Kim's hatred was reaching a new peak. Looked like it was intervention time and since Wendy was the one who was bringing this up, Bebe supposed she should go along with it.

She didn't want to lose a friend, especially not to something like this.

"Hey Kim?" Wendy asked, pointedly aiming her words at Kim.

"What?" Kim grounded out, not taking her eyes off Bain.

"Kim? Can you look at me?" Wendy pressed. "Kim?"

Bebe could swear she could hear the vertebrae in Kim's neck pop as she slowly turned her head to look at Wendy, her normally compassionate hazel eyes dark with negativity.

Okay, Bebe was firmly in Wendy's camp now. This was going _too_ far.

"Kim," Bebe spoke up, "we're starting to get a bit worried about you. You're not acting like yourself."

"What gave you that clue?" Kim spat back sarcastically.

"Kim, we're just worried about you!" Wendy picked up. "We think that you're getting too involved with this thing with Bain. It's making you into a whole different person!"

"Maybe that's because that bastard is stealing away my friends!" Kim shot back bitterly. "The corpse girl is right. That bastard has to be faking this for some reason, probably desperate for some attention. He's so pathetic!"

"We agree on that," Bebe said, "but you shouldn't let this rule your life. It just means Bain wins."

"Oh, we'll see who wins," Kim snorted as she reached for her backpack and began digging in it for something. "Watch this," she said as she pulled out a gleaming red apple that shined like it was from some fairy tale.

"Kim, what are you…" Wendy trailed off as she figured out Kim's intentions. "Kim! Wait!"

It was too late, Kim had pitched the red fruit and damn it, she had some arm Bebe marveled to herself. The apple flew in a perfect arc, descending at the just the right angle that it landed right in front of Bain.

Even from where they sat, the girls could see Bain freeze up but the girlish shriek that followed was unexpected. Bebe felt herself slightly jolted at the fear that she could pick up from the shriek but she found she couldn't tear her eyes away from the spectacle as Bain fell out of his chair, pushing himself back against the floor as he tried to put as much space between him and the fruit as possible.

Meanwhile, the rest of the cafeteria ripped into raucous laughter, pointing fingers at the cowering teen as he scrambled away and finally fled. At his heels, the Mormon kid followed, concern palpable on his face and Charlie expressed a terrifying glare that had some people shutting up and trying to subtly move away from her.

Kim, though, was grinning like she had just won a Nobel Peace Prize. To be truthful, Bebe didn't like it as that grin didn't make Kim look like Kim anymore.

She shared a concerned glance with Wendy, expressing with her eyes a single question.

_What have we been doing?_

* * *

Bain was gasping as he slapped water onto his face, Gary at his side keeping him from collapsing altogether and trying to soothe his hysterics. He had the powerful urge to curl up into a ball and sink into the ground, anything to get as far away as he could from those dread red things that haunted him so.

He tried his best to keep his eyes open, only blinking when he absolutely had to. Those instances were incredibly brief but even then in the nanosecond of darkness, he could see nothing but a wall of dull red.

"Easy, man," Gary was cooing. "Easy. It's going to be all right. Take it easy."

He so much wanted to believe those words yet something was keeping him from really accepting them. It felt like there was something writhing deep inside of him, filling him up yet not expanding to the point he would burst instead preferring to coil within him and increase its presence.

"It's okay, buddy. Easy there. Easy. It's going to be okay just take deep breaths, there…"

He was listening to those kind words and slowly taking their advice, finding out that they were indeed calming him down. Just a few more minutes and he could regain his composure and then continued with his day like nothing ever happened.

But why did he feel so alone at the same time? He wasn't alone, Gary was right beside him and everything! But what was this feeling? There was more than fright there, there was something else…

As he calmed down, his thoughts began to twist from fear to something else, something darker and a few choice words popped up into his head.

_Someone will _pay_ for this._

He found that he wholeheartedly agreed with those words and this time he was not appalled by them.

He was finding it difficult to separate himself fully from those thoughts as he was beginning to feel they were his more than some dark entity within him. He was sure that this entity was the one thing that could really help him; all he had to do was reach out and accept it, let it fuse into his being…

And his torment would end while the others' would just begin…


	13. Hail My Return

Author's Note: Unlucky chapter 13. You can probably guess what's going to happen this chapter by reading the title so enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, slight violence

Hail My Return

"It ees good to see you _niños_ beeng responseeble and showeeng up for detention on time," Principal Estrada chirped as he entered the classroom, his eyes zeroing in on Bain as if he was searching for him. He stood beside a teacher's desk, plopping a backpack by his feet.

"Why give you more ammunition?" Charlie shrugged from her seat as she slouched in her chair.

"Seet up straight," Principal Estrada ordered happily, looking around the classroom to see who else was part of his captive audience. "Why, _Senor_ Cartman! What breengs you here?"

"Fucking bitch of a teacher didn't like it that I was questioning her," Cartman scowled.

"What was zhe subject?" the principal asked curiously.

"Some kind of science," Cartman answered. "Can I help it if I question that speed times time equals distance? Honestly, it's like they're trying to stifle intelligent questions or something."

"Your kind of questions involve asking if Wendy has had the entire football between her legs," Charlie replied from where she sat.

"It's a legitimate question, assface."

"Eet ees good to see you _niños _getteeng along," the principal commented as he sat down. "However, eet ees quiet time now so no more talkeeng, _Si_?"

Bain waited for either Charlie or Cartman to make some kind of response but Charlie said nothing and Cartman grumbled under his breath. He sighed to himself as he let his gaze lower to the desk he was sitting at, wonder what he could do. He didn't have school work to do and he hadn't brought one of his books from home with him so he was easily bored.

He glanced at the others in the room, Charlie looking like she was snoozing, Gary working on something from another class while Kyra was reading a book of sorts. Cartman he kept a sharp eye on, not wanting to be caught off guard by one of his tricks if he had one planned. His thoughts had been taking a more darker tint lately and he was starting to eye things more closely as if they had an ulterior motive other than existing.

Meanwhile, the principal was keeping an eye on Bain, deviously thinking of all the ways he could torment the boy and get away with it. The only reason why he had let the little bastard stay in school for so long was because his mother had this way about her that was very…convincing. He had a small collection of one-of-a-kind photos of her in his house though he had yet to actually get some nookie out of her outside of a handjob.

That and Bain was legally able to skip to the next grade because of his backfire of an assessment test. It had been a stroke of genius to use his mother's seemingly naiveté to his advantage to keep the bastard in the school instead of letting him stay home until August. Why should he let the bastard get away with giving him headache after headache after chafed skin? His right hand could only alleviate so much pressure!

He turned a blind eye to the obvious bullying out of his own sense of gratification and when it started to look like the abuse was dying down, he reached out to that fat asshole and formed an alliance to keep the abuse strong. He didn't like Eric Cartman because he gave him even more headaches but at least his mother put out so he was satisfied from that end. If given the choice, he would have expelled the boy a long time ago.

Eyes shifting to the backpack beside the desk, he inwardly smiled to himself. This was going to be fun.

Back to Bain, the amnesiac was taking another look around the room, trying to be subtle about it. He saw from the corner of his eye that Charlie was no longer relaxed. She seemed tense for some reason and her face was turned towards one of the windows. Looking out of it himself, he could see storm clouds gathering outside and with a quizzical look at Charlie who was looking more and more anxious by the minute, he wondered what this portended.

Bain jerked slightly as he heard the principal clear his throat, getting all of their attention. He blinked innocently, watching the Hispanic man as he gave them all a cheery smile. "You are all beeng good _niños_. How about a leettle snack? Just don't tell any of zhe teachers I deed zhis, _Si_?"

A snack? That sounded nice. He continued to watch the principal as the man picked up the backpack he had brought in earlier and set it on his desk, unzipping it with practiced ease. He wondered what it was that the principal had in there.

"Catch!" Principal Estrada exclaimed as he tossed out something red. Instinctively, he caught it but froze immediately as what it was that he had grabbed.

An apple.

He dropped it onto his desk and pushed against the chair he sat in, trying to squirm away as far as he could without getting up.

He still didn't know why he was so frightened of apples; it was just this gut-wrenching reaction he had and no matter what he tried to do or tell himself, he just never seemed to get over that fear…

"What's zhe problem, _poco niño_?" the principal asked, his eyes sharper than usual. "Eet ees just an apple."

Bain swallowed, sweat beading on his forehead and his skin becoming clammy. Just please…make it stop…

The next thing he knew, the apple was gone, Charlie hiding it from view. He wondered where she put it since it didn't seem like she had it on her person but on second thought, he'd rather not know.

"That's low," she hissed at the principal, glaring at him through narrow eyes.

"That's hilarious!" Cartman crowed from where he sat, laughing as if he had never seen anything funnier. Gary threw the fat teen a look but it was easily ignored.

From her seat, Kyra bit her lip, not liking the feeling she was getting in her gut.

"Oh, don't be so serious," Principal Estrada said to Charlie, tutting at her. "Besides, apples are good for you. I have plenty more!"

"Don't you…" Charlie began to speak only to trail off as her eyes widened at the sight of apples being dumped onto the teacher's desk. How many of those things did that asshole have in that backpack?

"An apple a day keeps zhe _medico_ away!" Principal Estrada replied. "Look at all zhese beauties! Have you ever seen so many een one place?"

"Yeah, the grocery store!" Charlie snarked back.

"You are just grumpy," the principal chided. "Here. Have an apple."

The principal tossed one of those hellspawn pieces of fruit into the air but Bain quickly realized that he hadn't been aiming for Charlie. He was aiming for him. He raised his arms up and shielded his head, hoping against hope that the apple would pass by him.

No such luck.

He felt it bounce off his arms and he whimpered, wondering why he was still afraid even if he couldn't see those pieces of fruit. Maybe just knowing they were there and out to get him was the reason why he was cowering so.

"Principal Estrada, please!" he could hear Gary protest but he had a feeling that because of the principal's social status, Gary wouldn't try anything drastic. He knew in his gut that the blond was too straight laced to do something like that.

"Look! Look!" Cartman chortled as he pointed a finger at Bain all the while leaning back into his seat as laughter escaped from him. "It's like he thinks he's under fire! He looks like a retarded soldier! Ha ha!"

"Leave him alone!" he could hear Kyra protest. "What did he ever do to you?"

"Stay seated, _Senorita_ McCloud," the principal ordered. "You do not want another detention, _Si_?"

Was…was he doing this on purpose? But why?

"Oh _Senor_ Cynis, you seem very depressed," the principal's voice spoke up from somewhere in front of him. "Have an apple. Eet'll cheer you up."

He had tensed up on hearing the word apple but then he heard the sound of several thuds as multiple apples were dropped onto his desk and him. He cracked open his eyes and saw the apples laying there, his breathing starting to become short and quick, almost to the point of hyperventilating.

Before his eyes, he saw flashes of shiny red, a whole wall of it that seemed to rush at him yet at the same time never moved an inch towards him. He felt claustrophobic and he knew he had to get out of there. He needed to do it now or he felt he would lose his mind. Swiping his arm against the desk and scattering the apples that had settled around him, he dashed out of his seat and around the principal who was laughing for some reason, escaping out into the hallway in search of a place to hide.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Charlie roared at the principal who was wiping a tear from his eye, a result from laughing at Bain. "Are you trying to get fired or something?"

"Why do you care?" Principal Estrada chuckled as if not afraid of such a prospect. "Whateever happeened to zhe girl who hated _Senor_ Cynis, hmm? You hated hees guts more zhan anyone."

"No I don't!" she exclaimed.

"She's right on that one," Cartman agreed, heaving from laughing so hard. "If she had a dick, she'd have a hard-on for the asshole!"

"I see," Principal Estrada murmured.

"Don't you know what you just did is enough to get you fired?" Gary spoke up, staring at the principal incredulously. "School faculty and staff can't do these things!"

"But zhees weel never leave zhees room, _Si_?" Principal Estrada replied smoothly. "I steel have zhe power to expel you _niños_ and eef you try mention zhees to anyone, I can make sure you weel never attend a school een Colorado."

"What did Bain ever do to you?" Charlie sneered, balling her fists. "Was it so bad that you had to wait until he couldn't remember anything before you felt safe enough to strike back at him?"

"I just don't like heem," Principal Estrada shrugged with a small smile planted infuriatingly on his face. "He had zhees comeeng a long time."

"You're nothing but a chicken shit," Charlie spat at him. "You're low, so low. You're in this country illegally and you're tormenting someone who has the mindset of a child! You fucking deserve the electric chair!"

"Eef you theenk you can frighten me weeth zhat, theenk again," Principal Estrada said. "Even eef you do say sometheeng, eet weel not go far from zhe school district. Zhey don't want to pay full price for a legal Caucasian principal and I'm here because I weel work for cheap. I have my bases covered _Senorita_ White. Do you?"

"You…" Charlie began to growl only to be cut off as there was a low boom of thunder. She trembled slightly and slunk down into her seat, her eyes darting over to the window where she could see the storm clouds outside had darkened.

"Ha! Bitch is afraid of a little storm!" Cartman guffawed.

"How precious," Principal Estrada cooed. "I'm in a good mood; go home _niños_. Oh, before I forgeet, Monday detention for _Senorita_ White."

Gary glared at the principal as the man left the classroom, not bothering to pick up the mess he had left behind. Pointedly ignoring Cartman, he turned to Charlie in concern and asked, "Do you need a ride?"

"Please!" she squeaked out, forgetting about Bain's plight because of her own fear. She had never really gotten over that fear of hers, especially since another maniac was associated with it. Even though that maniac was dead, she had never really been able to overcome her fear of thunderstorms.

Giving a look to Kyra, he asked, "Look for Bain, okay? See if you can find him. If you can't just go home and we'll have to trust that Bain got back to his home okay."

"Right," Kyra agreed as she took off. As Gary helped Charlie out of the room, Cartman remained seated, completely pleased with today's results. However, he had one more thing he needed to take care of before he left but he would have to hurry.

His mom was making some of her _special_ brownies that Kenny liked for some reason and he would be damned if he let that poor boy get his hands on them before he did.

* * *

Bain curled up, shivering as he ignored any and all calls of his name. He just wanted to hide right now and didn't want anyone to talk to him. He couldn't figure it out; why were some people so mean to him while others were nice or didn't care if he existed or not?

His head was throbbing and he clutched at it, trying to counter intuitively apply pressure to try and alleviate the pain in his head. It just seemed to make the problem worse but he didn't care. Why should he care when it seemed like the whole world was out to get him?

There was another flash of shiny red and he could make out small shapes in it, all the shapes taking the form of apples. There were just so many and he had never felt so much terror. Why, why was he so afraid? Why was he still conscious when being unconscious would bring him much needed relief?

Another flash and the crippling fear that came with it. How much more did he need to suffer?

But…why was he suffering anyway? Why was he so afraid of apples of all things? Whatever nerves he had left, he steeled them and proceeded to think of nothing but apples, hoping that he could find some kind of explanation. As another flash struck, he latched onto it and peered into the shiny red image, trying to dig into it.

Slowly, something started to emerge, something that felt like happiness and _joy that he had the chance to prove to his Daddy that he was a Big Boy now. He was four and going to go on to five in a few months but that was just more proof in his mind as to why he was going to work with Daddy. Also, his sister wasn't coming. He had had a big smile when he heard that and couldn't hold back his happiness as she threw a fit._

_For days now, he had thought about nothing else when his Daddy had come up to him and asked if he wanted to go to his work with him and spend the day with him. How could he not answer with a yes? Big Boys went to work, not pre-school._

_He was a bit mad that he still had to use a carseat as his Daddy drove them to work; how was he going to prove that he was a Big Boy if he was stuck in this thing? When they arrived, he stuck his nose up in the air as his Daddy got him out and he could swear he heard him laugh at him. But he was a Big Boy now; he wouldn't look at his Daddy to see if he was really laughing._

_This was the first time he had come to Daddy's work and when he looked at the huge building that rose so high into the air and was so wide he couldn't tell where it ended, he wondered what it was his Daddy did. Did he own the building? That would be so cool if he did._

_He tried to listen to his Daddy throughout the day, doing his best to see if he could help in anyway. That's what Big Boys did; they worked and helped their Daddies. He had managed to figure out that this place was a warehouse and when he looked outside of his Daddy's office, he could see nothing but boxes and crates as far as his eyes could see until he saw the wall on the other side. He didn't know what were in those boxes but he had heard something about food being in them._

_However, he was becoming very bored very fast. There was nothing for him to do! His Daddy was busy with those books that he was writing in and always making phone calls where he had to stay quiet so his Daddy could hear what the person on the other side had to say. He was here to help Daddy! Sitting around and doing nothing wasn't helping!_

_Lunch came around and they had KFC brought in. According to his Daddy, at work you either brought your lunch with you or you went out and got it. There were no lunch ladies to give you food here. He thought it strange but didn't mind as much as he sucked on his fingers, trying to get as much of the skin off the chicken. It was the best part though he didn't like it when he was made to eat the meat too. It was just too much to eat and he was full from the crispy skin._

_Back into Daddy's office and he was bored again. He was getting tired of sitting around and doing nothing. He had already read through the books his Daddy had made him bring in case he did get bored. He hadn't thought he'd go through them all so quickly or else he would have brought more, maybe take his Gameboy with him. That was at home so other than sitting around and doing nothing, he could draw on some paper but he didn't feel like drawing anyway._

_The loud ringing of the phone grabbed his attention for a second before he sprawled back out on the couch he was hogging. He didn't pay any attention to what his Daddy was saying but he was startled when his Daddy asked if he wanted to go with him out onto the floor. His Daddy needed to talk with some workers and it looked like he needed to get out of the office for a bit._

_Without a second thought, he joined his Daddy. Getting out of this room was better than sticking around in it. He was practically skipping as he followed Daddy out into the warehouse and he gazed in wonder at just how many boxes there were in here. There had to be over a hundred! Maybe more than ten hundred!_

_He was slightly disappointed when his Daddy came to a stop and began speaking with a couple guys who worked here too. He didn't really get what they were talking about and he tuned them out quickly enough as he continued to take in the sight of the boxes. Did they touch the ceiling? Maybe they were what was holding the ceiling up!_

_Looking back at Daddy talking to those guys, he looked annoyed at him, wondering how long his Daddy was going to talk with them. He was becoming bored so quickly…_

_He took another look at his Daddy, his mind racing with a thought: maybe he could look around for a bit then come back before Daddy knew he was gone. Yeah, this was his chance to help him! He didn't really know what Daddy did here but he figured that if he found something, he could tell him about it._

_Because that's what Big Boys did._

_He was careful to keep an eye on his Daddy, moving behind a box and out of sight. Soon he was in what looked like a hallway of boxes, much like the one he had left Daddy in. Now, what could he do to help? The only way he could think that he could help was walk around a bit and look. He'd find something, he was sure of it._

_He passed by box after box, sometimes reading papers that were taped on them saying where they were from and where they were going to. There were some boxes that were from Nebraska and were going to Los Angeles and there were some that said they were from Ohio and going to New Mexico._

_He soon forgot about trying to find something wrong and became more interested in finding out where some boxes were from and where they were going to. Most of the places he read were those he had never heard of and every time he saw Colorado or Denver, he jumped up and down excitedly. He knew where those places were!_

_By now, he had forgotten completely about staying with his Daddy._

_Soon enough he came upon two boxes that said they came from a place called Washington State. One of them were suppose to go to Durango and the other to Louisiana. There was something about these boxes that were different. If he looked closely, he could see that the wood the boxes were made of were a different color than the other boxes he had looked at. Also, both the boxes seemed to bulge on their sides as if they were stuffed with too much stuff._

_He placed his hands on one of the boxes and pushed on it, delighted when he found he could push into the box slightly and move what was inside of it around. Now here was something fun! Repeatedly, he pressed on and off the part of the box only stopping when he heard a strange creaking noise from the box._

_What was that, he wondered._

"_Bain! Where are you?" he heard his father yell out. He jumped and spun around, about to yell out but stopping when he couldn't figure out where he was. Was he lost? No! He was just…not where he should be! Yeah, now he remembered; he was suppose to be looking for something wrong so he could tell Daddy about it._

_He looked back at the box which he still had his hands against. Was this something wrong? Well, hopefully his Daddy wouldn't be mad at him if he told him about it. Plus, if it wasn't wrong then it was suppose to be this way. That meant the next time he came here, he could play with it more! Hey, maybe the other box was the same way!_

_Wanting to test this out before he went back to Daddy, he eager placed his hands on the other box and pushed on it. He jerked back as he heard a loud crack from the box and immediately he welled up with guilt. It looked like he had made a boo-boo._

_Suddenly, the side of the box from which the loud crack had come from burst open, planks of wood slamming against the other box that he had played with seconds before. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as that second box broke open and he screamed as countless apples spilled out from the boxes and hit him._

_The next thing he knew, his back was pressed against the concrete floor and all around him there were shiny red apples. He tried to move his arms and twist his body, maybe squirm out of this mess but found that he was pinned. He cried out to his Daddy but he wasn't sure if his Daddy could hear him. And were these apples getting heavier?_

_He opened his mouth to scream again but found that his voice was muffled as an apple slid into his opened mouth. He couldn't close his mouth any more as his jaws were strong enough to bit through the fruit and it was starting to get harder and harder to breathe. The apples were pressing down on his chest heavily and he was having trouble using his nose for some reason. Tears fled from his eyes as he began to sob before his mind could no longer handle the trauma and blacked out._

* * *

_Blearily, his eyes opened and he winced, pain lashing through his body for some reason. He was laying on something…and he was moving…and he was outside._

_He could see his Daddy beside him and not. He couldn't figure out what was going on and felt the urge to close his eyes again. Maybe when he opened them again, things would make more sense…_

* * *

_Hospitals weren't fun, he found out later. He had been in and out of unconsciousness so many times and each and every time he had woken up, there had been an oxygen mask on his face, feeding him nothing but air. He had been a bit curious about it when he had learned about it but had lost interest in it._

_His body was sore, something about the doctor saying he had bruised ribs. They told Mommy and Daddy that they wanted to keep him here for a few days to make sure he would be all right. He hadn't like that idea and had moaned to them, trying to tell them not to leave him alone here._

"_Now Sweetie, we won't be gone long," Mommy told him, pressing a kiss on his forehead like she would when it was bedtime. "I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow."_

"_Pro…mise?" he managed to rasp out, the first word he had managed to speak since he had woken up in the hospital._

"_Promise," Mommy told him, hooking her pinky with his. "I pinky-swear."_

_His lips curled up slightly, now convinced. He looked up at Daddy who always seemed to be looking away. He hadn't looked at him once since he had woken up. Was he in trouble? Was his Daddy mad at him? He hadn't meant to get hurt!_

_He kept his eyes on the two as they left, ignoring the television as he continued to watch the door, waiting for them to come back. Mommy pinky-promised. She would be back. He…he had to be a Big Boy now. He could stay at the hospital alone. He would._

_When morning came, the moment he opened his eyes he looked for Mommy. She wasn't there. Neither was Daddy._

_They…they were on their way here. Mommy pinky-promised! He spent that whole day watching the door, always perking up when it opened but his hopes were crushed each and every time it was the doctor or the nurse. By dinner time, Mommy and Daddy hadn't shown up and he was struggling not to cry. Big Boys did not cry. He was a Big Boy, he couldn't cry…_

_They would have to be here tomorrow and when they did show up, they would be on their knees saying they were sorry. They would give him ice cream, maybe get him that action figure he had been looking at since last week. Yeah, they would be sorry. He bet the doctor would be mad at them too!_

_The next day came and went and Mommy and Daddy still didn't show up. They finally took that oxygen mask off and while he had coughed a lot, he was doing better now. But he was still hurt by Mommy and Daddy not showing up. What was wrong? Were they in a car crash and hurt too? Had their house burn down and they were homeless? What was going on?_

_The next two days passed the same way. There was no Mommy and Daddy. They didn't even use a phone to talk to him. The nurses were giving him these looks and always trying to talk with him. He talked back some but the longer Mommy and Daddy didn't show up, the less he talked._

_Soon, he was allowed to walk around the hospital and since he didn't want to stay in his room any longer, he toddled around, looking into other rooms but not saying a word that would alert others to him. Whenever he did peek into the other rooms and saw there were other kids there, he always saw those kids' Mommies and Daddies there._

_Like there was this one girl who had her tonsils taken out; her Mommy was there. Then there was that girl with the broken leg; both her Mommy and Daddy were here. Then there was this other girl who had a strange color, something about cancer; her Mommy, Daddy, and big brother were there. The big brother was out in the hallway and for some reason, he was smiling about something._

_His brown and green eyes met with the sick girl's brown ones and he looked away, walking off to look elsewhere. Everywhere he looked, wherever there were kids there were their Mommies and Daddies. Why weren't his here?_

_A few days later, the hospital let him out. Even then, his Mommy and Daddy hadn't shown up. In fact, the nurses were talking about it behind him, mentioning that they had to be bad parents or something. He didn't have the will to correct them. It took a few calls from the doctor to get his Mommy and Daddy here and when they finally showed up, his Mommy was all over him, saying she was sorry and his Daddy was still quiet._

_He didn't feel anything, really. He didn't feel happy or do anything when he was put into his carseat. He wanted to yell at them but he just couldn't do it. It was when they came home that he found out why Mommy and Daddy hadn't shown up at the hospital to spend time with him._

_It was his big sister, Sierra. He saw the look she was giving him when he came inside but she ignored him and began talking about how much fun she had at the amusement park with them. She was wearing a souvenir shirt and everything and he soon saw a picture where there were all three of them on a rollercoaster._

_While he had been in the hospital, they had….without him…like they didn't care. Without a word, he went up into his room where he sat on the floor and stared at the wall. All this time they had been having fun without him, like they had forgotten about him. He had no idea how long he sat there but before he knew it, dinner was done and he hadn't been told. He was so hungry…so lonely…_

_He could hear his sister laughing downstairs, still having fun. Then he remembered back at the hospital, all those girls there had their Mommies and Daddies with them. And he was a boy. Was it because he was a boy that they hadn't come? Because he wasn't a girl? But…but girls always got everything! They always had friends, always liked! Everyone talk with them and the teacher at school was nicer to the girls and the boys!_

_It wasn't fair!_

_His hands balled into fists and his eyes began to harden slightly. Why should girls always get what they want when he had almost been killed! He had almost _died_. Mommy and Daddy…they didn't care about him. Why else would they have not come and visited him? What did it take for them to look at him just for a second? A second was all he asked for!_

_His breathing was heavier but he wasn't gasping for air. He was angry was what he was. He had always tried to be a good boy. Well, if being a good boy wasn't enough…then maybe it was time to _make_ them pay attention. No, not just make them pay attention but make them sorry that they left him at the hospital all alone. But why stop with them…when Sierra was also a part of it? She always had their attention and whenever she broke something, she blamed him! And he would get punished!_

_If being a bad boy was going to be what it took then he was going to be more than bad. He was going to unleash heck on them, all of them. He would make them _all_ as miserable as he was._

It was from that day forth that he really began to fear apples. It really wasn't because a bunch of apples had nearly crushed him to death; it was because whenever he looked at an apple, he was reminded of the loneliness he had felt and experienced. He didn't want to be alone but at the same time he hated all the people around him and isolated himself from them.

Inadvertently he had also trained himself. Whenever he felt that crippling fear he would become angry and whenever he became that angry he would destroy whatever was around him. He made them pay; he made them all pay.

Bain Cynis' eyes snapped open but no longer were they wide with innocence. They were narrowed and hardened with hatred. Memories, so many memories flashed before his eyes filling him to the brim with emotions that he unconsciously put into check. However, it wasn't just the memories that he had forgotten that he was seeing.

He remembered it all, especially what those bastards he called classmates did to him. He had been right to hurt them all; they were all assholes, cunts, bastards, and whores. Well, if they thought they could get away with all this…

Hell would hath no fury as a pissed off Bain Cynis.

His nostrils flared and he glared at the set of lockers that opposed him. So many thoughts of violence bubbled in his mind, all of them so brutal and gory that he was having a hard time figuring out which one was the best.

He cocked his head to the side. Were those…voices? He could hear them, one of which he automatically identified.

Eric Cartman.

So the fat fuck was still here?

He looked up above himself, spotting the "cleverly" placed security camera that recorded all the going-ons in this hallway. It was too high up for him to try and grab…but not for Winslow. He felt for the knife and pulled it out instantly, his grip on the handle gentle and familiar. Getting up onto his feet then standing on the tips of his toes, he stretched his arm up and angled Winslow just under the camera, the sharp side of the blade pressed against one of the camera's wires.

He sawed through all the wires and then put Winslow away. He crept to the other side of the hallway and peeked around the corner, spotting both Cartman and that fucking ass of a principal, Esteban Estrada.

Oh, he had a bone to pick with _him_.

"That was so cool what you did with those apples," Cartman was chuckling, speaking with the principal as if they were good friends.

"I have to zhank you for zhe info," Principal Estrada replied. "Who have ever zhought zhat _bastardo_ was afraid of something so wholesome?"

"Fucking dick deserved it," Cartman agreed. "Naoh, I was thinking of doing something big Monday but I'm going to need a lot of duct tape and an audience."

"Assembly in zhe gym," Principal Estrada said dismissively. "Done."

"Killer," Cartman said. "Okay, in that case, I'll need unrestricted access to the school. I'll be spending the weekend setting things up."

"So you'll need a key," Principal Estrada mused. Pulling out a large set of keys from his pocket, he flipped through them easily and unhooked one of them. "Zhees will geet you zhrough zhe back door of zhe gym. Don't lose eet. I want eet back on Monday."

"If there is anybody you can trust in this world, it's me," Cartman answered as he greedily swiped the key. From his eyes you could tell that he was thinking of doing some things that weren't pertinent to his next humiliate Bain plan.

"I hope so," Principal Estrada said, "because eef you don't, I'll be sendeeng you to Mehico FedEx."

"You're not serious about that, are you?" Cartman asked slowly.

"Try and see," Principal Estrada replied.

"Okay…well, it was good talking to you, see you next week," Cartman said hurriedly as he turned away from the Hispanic man and began walking in the direction of where Bain was. Pulling away from the corner, Bain backed his way down the hallway, mulling over what he had just heard. As he reached a glass case where a fire axe was held, a smile spread slowly on his lips as he thought of an idea.

Quickly, he opened the case and pulled out the axe, rolling his eyes at the cheapness of the school; not bothering to put locks on these cases, feh. It was like they were asking for an axe murderer…

He hid behind a set of lockers as Cartman came into view and started down the hallway. It was as if there was some force out there that was working with him. Tightening his grip on the axe handle, he readied himself, making sure that when he swung the axe he was not swinging it blade first.

He had plans.

Cartman's footsteps were close. Just a couple more and…

There was a boom of thunder at the very second Bain swung the axe, landing the flat end of the axe into Cartman's jaw and flooring him. Without hesitation, he moved to Cartman, turning his head to a side and bringing the butt end of the axe down continuously against Cartman's jaw until he was certain that the teen's jawbone was broken. Mercilessly, he kicked Cartman's head, dazing him so that he wouldn't be quick enough to stop the assault.

Squatting down, he sat down on Cartman's chest, pinning the teen's hands with his feet. Casually with one hand, he slipped a hand into one of Cartman's pockets and pulled out the key that Principal Estrada has so generously lent him. Pocketing the key, he smiled down at Cartman who was just beginning to regain his senses.

"Hi," he said nonchalantly, tapping the butt end of the axe against Cartman's shoulder. He watched eagerly as Cartman's eyes widened and before the fatass could do anything, he lowered the blade end of the axe down and pressed it against his throat. "Careful, I might knick you," he said warningly.

Cartman's eyes were staring straight up at him in fear, a look that Bain reveled in. It was time to make him pay.

"Don't be afraid, fat boy," he said. "I'm not going to kill you. However, by the time I'm done you're going to wish I did."

Adjacent to them, the shadows on the lockers reflected Bain's next action as he raised the axe up and brought it back down.

* * *

The storm outside was loud and Charlie trembled beneath the covers of her bed. As soon as Gary had dropped her off, she had run into her house as quick as her feet would let her. So here she was, cowering away from what sounded like the loudest thunderstorm she had ever heard.

It was like it was an omen, like something unholy had surfaced.

She didn't care to speculate on it and she muffled a squeak as lightning streaked against the sky outside.

* * *

The door to the Cynis home opened slowly and ominously. Against the backdrop of a lightning-streaked sky, the newly post-amnesia Bain Cynis took slow, careful steps into the house, closing the door quietly behind him.

But not quietly enough.

"Where have you been?" Sierra demanded of him. He gazed back at her coolly, taking in her aggressive stance and mentally scorning it. Behind him, he kept his arm still, hiding the fire axe he had taken from the school and assaulted Eric Cartman with. He tightened his grip on the handle yet he was determined not to kill her yet.

He still had a surprise for her.

"Your car," he stated dully. "Someone didn't like it."

"What?" Sierra frowned at him, hands planted on her waist. "What the hell are you talking about, Braindead? Lost your mind again? Well, before you go further with it, make me a sandwich and tell me where you fucking hid my dolls."

He didn't bat an eyelid at that. That was still on her mind? Well, he had been in the frame of mind of an amnesiac but he had to say, he was proud that he had destroyed those things. She was standing there still, giving him that infuriatingly impatient look of hers and he couldn't help but feel a tinge of satisfaction.

"Someone messed up your car," he deadpanned. "Looked like a sledgehammer," he added thoughtfully.

"Excuse me?" Sierra said incredulously.

Okay, this was getting stupid. Backing towards the front door while still facing her so that she didn't see the axe he was hiding behind him, he opened it and gestured with a hand in the direction of where her car was inconsiderably parked. He could see her roll her eyes but stomp towards him anyway and peeked her head out of the door. He slipped around her and back into the house and she made a squawking noise and ran out of the house.

He made his way over to the basement entrance and entered quietly, using Sierra's shrieks to cover any noise he made. He strolled down the stairs leisurely, his eyes scouring every inch of the basement until they landed on a large blanket. Grabbing it, he pulled it off, ignoring the dust that resulted, though he did have the powerful urge to sneeze, and gazed malevolently at the jugs that had been hidden beneath it.

The polypropylene. Now that he thought about it, it was because of this stuff that all of this had happened. Polypropylene was a coolant that was used for artificial ice rinks and its sole purpose was to enable water to freeze faster and at higher temperatures. Since the mall didn't have an spare polypropylene, they had to close down the ice rink but the idiots that wanted to skate went to Stark's Pond to use as a substitute.

Spring was coming and the ice was thin, too thin. He too had forgotten that important fact and because of that he had almost drowned. Due to the late resuscitation, his brain had to reboot and all his memories were gone.

But not anymore.

He grimaced at the thought that the French fucker Christophe had given him CPR. He'd never live it down that that Frenchie had helped to save his life. He shook his head, returning to the matter at hand.

Handling the key he had taken from Cartman, his plans were becoming set. If revenge was a dish best served cold, then there was going to be enough to go around for seconds.

They would all learn why you didn't cross Bain Cynis. Your chances of survival would be miniscule.

Just the way he liked it.


	14. A Series of Subplots

Author's Note: I just want to get this story finished so updates may be coming at a faster pace. Hopefully, if all goes well, it'll be done before New Years'. Since I have nothing else going on, I have more time for writing but I also have noticed a drop off in people reading. I don't care about reviews right now, just that more than twelve people are reading the last chapter over a period of three days. We're looking at three to four more chapters so motivate me and read. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

A Series of Subplots

Sergeant Harrison Yates was repulsed by the sight of the assault victim. The kid was so damn bloated; he must have gotten a severe asskicking. He scratched the back of his red haired head and bent his head down, not wanting to stare at that unconscious battered form.

Jesus, why were these things happening in his county? Sure they arrested plenty of people for assault but the victims were usually adults, not kids. It really struck him at the core and he swore to himself that he was going to find the bastard that did this.

"You say he was found like this?" Yates asked, turning to eye the doctor intensely.

"That's how he was brought in, officer," the doctor agreed. "He's lucky to be alive. Schools tend to be places where hopes and dreams are massacred and lives ruined. His soul ought to have been sucked dry."

"Don't I know that," Yates said. "Still, he must have been beaten really hard."

"How do you mean?" the doctor asked.

"Look at him! He's all swollen," Yates gestured towards the unconscious victim.

"Actually, I think he's naturally fat," the doctor said.

"Really?" Yates asked. "Maybe you're going to have to tell me again what his injuries are. Ready Murphy?"

Beside the red haired, mustached detective stood a gray haired middle aged man with a notepad in hand who answered, "Ready."

"Well, there was a lot of bruising, some broken bones," the doctor began to describe. "His jaw bone was practically shattered so for now he won't be able to talk. His hands were also damaged so he won't be able to write either. There were a lot of gashes like someone cut him with a knife or some other sharp instrument. His skull is cracked and we had to drill some holes in so his brain wouldn't get cramped from swelling. We're trying to figure out if he still has both of his testicles but there's a good chance one of them popped."

"Christ," Yates said. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Oh, I'm not done yet," the doctor added. "There was bruising on his neck which leads me to believe someone tried to choke him but since he's still alive either the person failed or stopped prematurely. I think there's something else…oh right! We think someone tried to give him liposuction. There was a good amount of fat missing and because of that we had to give him a transfusion. For now, he's alive."

"How do you know some of his fat is gone?" Yates asked, frowning.

"He used to weight fifteen pounds heavier," the doctor shrugged. "This isn't the first time he's been here."

"Right," Yates nodded. "Can you give us a name?"

"Of course. His name is Eric Cartman," the doctor said. "I can't help but wonder what he did this time."

"Well, when he wakes up he can tell us who did this to him," Yates said confidentially.

"But he can't talk or write," Murphy pointed out.

"We'll deal with that later," Yates said dismissively. "It shouldn't be too hard to extract the information. I'm betting that it's probably some pissed off black folk that was tired of his bigotry."

"Judging from his injuries, I'd say it was the Russian Mafia," the doctor said.

"Oh, how much are you willing to bet?" Yates asked.

"One hundred," the doctor stated.

"You must not be getting many malpractice suits this month," Yates whistled in appreciation. "All right, I take you up on that. What about you Murphy? What's your bet?"

Murphy blinked but thought about it. "I think it's one of the students. A nerd."

"A nerd! That's so lame!" Yates guffawed. "Well, what the hell, it's your money."

"So we're set?" Murphy asked, flipping to a different section of his notebook and writing down the bets.

"Yep; book it and lets go," Yates agreed. "Still," he paused, "maybe we could get some expects in here. People who can wake him up."

"Dream experts, sir?" Murphy asked. "But wouldn't they have to go into a dream within a dream so that one guy's wife doesn't manifest as a train?"

"Guess we'd have to bring in the fire department," Yates mused. "They have ladders; that'll help them get to different dream levels."

"But we'll need a regression therapist too," Murphy pointed out.

"Um, why don't we wait for him to wake up on his own?" the doctor asked. "Wouldn't that be safer?"

"Yeah but that would be super lame," Yates told him. "Our way, there will be explosions and gun fights. Who doesn't like those things?"

"Explosions and gun fights? All right, you've convinced me," the doctor said. "I'll see if I can get in touch with them and see what we can do."

"Make sure to give me a call so I can join too," Yates added. "This is a once in a lifetime event and it's not like you get to be in a dream within the Matrix with a dream. It'll be killer."

* * *

News of Cartman's admittance to Hell's Pass hadn't yet reached Kyle's ears but he wouldn't have really cared anyway. It would have just meant to him that no risk in having Cartman spot him with _hellspawn666_ but he did not know this so he was still worried about the possibility.

Okay, forget about the fatass, you can do this Kyle, he told himself. Yet that didn't stop him from feeling a bit underdressed; yes he was casual but he was still tempted to put on something more formal. No, he needed to be more confident! That's right, his uncertainty might put _hellspawn666_ off and make her rethink chatting with him online.

He could do this. He would do this! Damn it, he had a feeling that everything was going to go wrong. Well, there was nothing for it. It would be best if he would just get it over with so he could be back home and out of the impending disaster. Why couldn't he be more like Stan or Kenny? Those two wouldn't be so skittish before a date!

However, these doubts were still with him even as he sat in the Tweak's Coffee House with a cup of Joe. Hmm, why didn't they meet at Harbucks? Though a large chain, their coffee had a better quality of coffee than the Tweaks did. Maybe it was because so few people came here that _hellspawn666_ chose this place? That would mean less people to see them and less of a chance Cartman would see him.

Wow, he was really beginning to see the pluses to meeting here.

He tensed as he heard the front entrance open, a small bell ringing to emphasize that fact. Not a second after the bell rang, he could hear Tweek give a small shriek though he had it under control quickly. Maybe those horse tranquilizers were working. He was noticeable less shaky.

He cast a quick glance to the door but turned away in disappointment as it was not a girl but a guy in black clothes. He'd say he was a Goth but really, did Goths wear turtlenecks and mittens and a scarf that hid their mouth from view? And those dark shaded glasses that only a blind person would wear? No, the kid probably had an overprotective mother, which he could sympathize with.

He went back to starting at his black coffee with two sugars, picking it up to take a quick sip and putting it back again. Shouldn't _hellspawn666_ be here by now? He had e-mailed her last night and she had confirmed that she was going to be here before ten. Looking at his watch, he could see it was about a minute until ten. Maybe she was being held up by traffic?

He had been worried he'd be late and tried to show up a full hour earlier. That hadn't worked as he had hoped; he had chosen to walk here instead of taking the car and halfway to the coffee show, he had run into Kimberly Smith or Kim as he knew her. Why was she out so early in the morning and why was her face getting a bit pink?

Now, he would admit that she was a very pretty girl and any guy who managed to get her would be lucky. Yet he could never see himself with her if only because he believed she was way out of his league. He accepted that and chose not to dwell on it, preferring to establish himself with others in which he had a chance.

If he had thought about it, he would have realized she was single and not hooked up with anyone. Yet this thought hadn't crossed his mind.

But back to what had happened, she was in his way, unintentionally mind you, and she gave off the appearance of a nervous school girl. Curiosity had led him to ask what she was doing out so early.

"Um…I wanted to get a gift," Kim had answered, blushing cutely. "There's this guy that I like and…"

Kyle had blinked at her then smiled, getting just what was going on. It had made sense to him and he replied, "I wish you luck. Whoever this guy is, he's lucky that you like him."

He had moved around her, not seeing the stunned look she had on her face, and continued on his trek to the coffee house. Or at least he would have if Kim hadn't grabbed him by his coat sleeve.

"Could you come with me?" she had asked, some kind of emotion on her face that he couldn't identify. "You know, help me pick something out? I…I don't want to mess up and get something stupid!"

"Sorry, but I have to be somewhere," he told her. "I'm meeting with someone and I don't want to be late. Maybe another time?"

She had stared at him slack jawed and he managed to pull his sleeve free so he could continue on. The look she had given him had bothered him as it made him feel like he had said something wrong. Well, there was nothing for it and yeah, he really didn't want to be late. So here he was, still waiting for _hellspawn666_ to show up holding her arm.

He looked up in surprise as the black-clad boy with the stupid shaded glasses from earlier took the seat across from him. What the hell?

"I hope this seat isn't taken," the boy said, his voice oddly high pitched even through the scarf he was wearing.

"Uh, I'm expecting someone," he told the boy, slightly annoyed. He looked out to all the other tables, his annoyance increasing when he saw that there were plenty of seats this ass could have chosen from. "Why don't you go somewhere else?"

The boy chuckled at him, something that peeved the Jew. What was so funny, huh?

"Waiting for a girl?" the boy asked as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck. Kyle narrowed his eyes at the boy, his annoyance increasing. Something at the back of his mind was perking up as if trying to tell him something. There was something odd about this boy but he couldn't place his finger on it…

"Actually, yes," he told the boy bluntly. "I would appreciate it if you would go somewhere else, kid."

Was it just him or did some light glint off the guy's dumb shades? Were they sunglasses? He supposed they could protect your eyes from being snowblind but really, in the middle of town? Now, he wasn't one to talk about fashion but really dude, really.

"Well, I'm here to meet someone too," the boy said, not even budging out of his seat.

"Good for you," Kyle rolled his eyes, quickly glancing to the coffee shop's front door. No one, shit.

"You see, I have been talking with this person online," the boy continued, mittens placed in front of him and his hands wrapped around his own cup of coffee. He calls himself _Davidstar1002_."

Kyle froze at that. That…that was his name.

"And I told him that I would meet him in this place holding an arm," the boy added almost thoughtfully to himself. "Oh yeah, that's what I forgot."

Before Kyle knew what was happening, right in front of him was a severed human arm. He was appalled having watched the boy pull it out from his person somewhere and placing it casually between them, blood trickling out from the end of the limb.

Holy shit, this was _hellspawn666_? It was a guy this whole time? Oh Moses, he felt sick.

"Now don't be like that Kyle," the boy said, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder. "I've waited quite a while to meet up with you. Again."

This wasn't just creepy; it was becoming sinister and getting worse with each word the guy said. Could it be that he had himself a stalker who wasn't Cartman?

"Don't compare me to him," the guy said as he took off his glasses, revealing his eyes to be red. It wasn't red like he rubbed them all the time; his irises were really red. "I am nothing like your nemesis."

"Hey, how do you—" Kyle began only to be interrupted.

"I know a lot of things my Jewish friend," the boy said. "You however either do not or don't remember. Doesn't matter which since to be honest, I enjoy corrupting every soul I come across. Yours is just special."

"Dude, you're freaking me out!" he cried out. "Forget this, I'm leaving!"

He tried to stand up but he felt something grab hold of him and force him to remain in his seat. He flailed his arms but his legs were ignoring the commands his brain was sending to them. He looked around frantically but found to his dismay there was no one around.

"Tweek!" he called out anyway, doubting that the twitching blond would be of any help.

"No one will hear you Kyle," the boy said casually. "My powers enable it so that we will not be interrupted. Just sit back and enjoy this. If there is anything you can trust for me, you can trust that I am about to rock your world."

"Who…who are you?" he demanded weakly, his fear starting to take hold.

"As I said earlier, there are things you don't remember," the boy said as he snapped his fingers, the table between them vanishing instantly. "I'm one of them but I do believe I can jog your memory." He stood up and crept to the captured Jew who's frightened eyes remained fixed on him. "I'm an old classmate of yours," the boy continued, "a very old classmate. I had to leave years ago but I never forgot about this town and the people who live in it. Don't think I've singled you out, I've chatted with lots of folks in this town online. You're just the one that held my attention the longest and I have to admit, I want to take our 'relationship' to the next level."

Kyle continued to watch in terror as the black-clad boy sat on his lap and straddled him, the air being exhaled from the boy and coating his face being unbearably hot. Those red eyes were half-lidded and darker with something else in them.

"Let me reintroduce myself," the boy breathed, flicking out a dark, forked tongue that licked one of his cheeks. "I am Damien, the Antichrist. You'd probably remember me as 'Fartboy,' especially since you were the one that gave me that name."

Kyle's eyes widened as Damien's face lowered to his and he was consumed with evil.

* * *

Christophe sighed as he lounged on the Mason brothers' couch, staring boredly at the television and not paying attention to the program that was playing. His mind was elsewhere, stuck on thoughts of a rainbow-splattered girl. He still regretted that day in which he tore her world apart and he wanted nothing more than to make her happy again.

There was still that one problem: he had told her he had been experiencing homoerotic thoughts and she was thinking he was gay because of that. Now, he might be more bisexual as he still loved the ladies, or in this case one particular lady, but would that mean anything to Rhiannon? This whole thing, it was confusing. It was nothing like going on a mission where the only rule was don't fuck up or you'll die.

Emotions, they were a Pandora's Box of their own.

Yet he did not regret his decisions thus far. If he had been put into the same situation again, he would have done the same things. Well, maybe he would have been more honest about it from the beginning; he knew that Rhiannon could get jealous when he spoke with other girls. All girls kinda did that when he dated them. But Rhiannon was really taking this hard, so very hard that he had to feel a twinge of guilt about it.

There was only one course of action he could do. He had to do whatever it took to cheer her up, even though it didn't mean he would get back together with her. That would be a quick fix but ultimately be as effective as putting a band-aid over a festering wound.

Sharply, his eyes snapped towards the front door when he heard the door creak open. He remained sitting as Miles appeared, the older brother giving him a look.

"Alright freeloader, how long are you staying today?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Only until Leo ez finished," he answered calmly, throwing his head in the direction of the kitchen where humming could be heard and a pleasant aroma wafted through the air.

"Great, sap us of our food," Miles grunted, rolling his eyes.

Christophe didn't bother replying to that, knowing that Miles was just trying to bait him while hiding his concern. Now that the older brother was a dropout and working fulltime, he had become more on edge lately.

"Why don't you go back to school?" he asked instead, not looking away from the television though his attention was focused solely on the other male.

"You know why," Miles spat at him. "We need the money and part time isn't cutting it."

"You know I'd lend you some cash to 'elp out," Christophe began to say.

Miles was right in front of him and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "I will not take fucking charity," Miles snarled into his face. "Not from you, not from anybody. We can take care of ourselves."

Christophe was not overly concerned; he could get out of something like this easily. It just so happened that speaking to Miles like this would be to his advantage as it let him speak more softly, making it harder for Leo to possibly overhear anything. It was an unspoken agreement between the two that neither of them would do anything to make Leo anxious.

"You not getting a 'igh school diploma is not taking care of yourself," he stated. "You'll be stuck in a dead end job for ze rest of your life."

"And you think I haven't thought of that, huh?" Miles spat back. "All that matters is that Leo is taken care of. It doesn't matter what happens to me."

"If you're dead set on zis, zen fine," Christophe sighed. "Just know zat I'm willing to 'elp."

"Thanks but no thanks," Miles sniffed, shoving him back. "We'll be fine."

"Miles? Is that you?" Leo called from the kitchen. "Can you come in here for a sec? I need your help."

Miles said nothing to the French mercenary and though he looked put off, Christophe knew that he was relieved because of Leo's unintended interruption. He'd let this go for now but he swore to himself that he was going to hammer at the elder of the two brothers. Miles may be gruff and stubborn but if you kept on pressing, eventually even a tough nut like him would crack.

In the meantime, what to do about Rhiannon?

* * *

"What am I doing wrong?" Kim sulked beside Bebe. "It's like he doesn't get it."

"Don't let it get you down," Bebe advised sweetly. "Everybody knows how oblivious Kyle can be when it comes to girls. I remember when I tried to get together with him back in the third grade, he didn't seem to get that I was interested in him…and his fine ass. Damn, that ass is so sweet, I still want to wear it on my head like a hat."

"That isn't helping," Kim growled, glaring daggers at the blonde.

"Sorry," Bebe apologized sheepishly. "You have to agree he does have a _fine_ ass though."

"Yeah…" Kim sighed. "I wonder who it is he's meeting up with?"

Had Bebe been drinking something, she would have done a spit take. Kyle was meeting up with someone? Crap! How oblivious was this guy anyway? Okay, damage control.

"It's probably Stan or some guy from school," she said, shrugging her shoulders to make it appear like it wasn't a big deal. One wrong word, though, and she knew there was going to be hell to pay. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and all.

Plus Kim and Kyle would make a cute couple in her opinion.

"Maybe," Kim sighed. "I just wish he would actually see me for once. You know, maybe ask me out for a date. He always with his friends and when he's not he's at his house."

Bebe eyed Kim carefully. "How would you know that?" she asked.

"I don't," Kim shrugged. "It's just that I've overheard him talking to his friends a few times that he had to get home. I just think that whenever he's not with his friends, he's home."

Sigh of relief there. At least Kim wasn't showing signs of being obsessed yet. Girls did crazy things when they were obsessed. Just like that one kindergarten teacher who became obsessed with one of her students. Huh, wasn't that student Kyle's little brother?

"What you need to do is get your mind off Kyle," Bebe told her friend. "The best way I can think to do that is to do the usual."

Kim lifted her head up to look at Bebe more closely. "You mean…?"

"Uh huh," Bebe agreed. "Shopping spree."

"With who else?"

"Do you want there to be anyone else?"

"No."

"Then just us."

"How much?"

"However much you got."

"Now?"

"Naturally."

The rapid fire questions and responses were quick, coming one after the other as if they had been done before. With each question she asked, Bebe found that Kim was getting that spark back within her. Alright, part one was done, time to get Kim to the mall for part two.

* * *

Charlie opened the front door, peeved. Naturally, it would be today of all days that she would be home alone and sleeping in when some asshole pushed the doorbell. If she recalled correctly, her mother had to take Tammy to an eye doctor for a check-up and Stella had spent the night with a friend.

That just left answering the door to her and whoever it was that had come was not leaving until someone answered the door. If she could remember where her mother hid that rifle, she'd have pulled it out and loaded it, not caring that she could potentially be committing a felony.

They had woken her up, damn it. She needed her sleep.

Unlocking the front door, she jerked the door opened and glared at the two figures on her front porch. Huh, it was Kyra and Gary the Mormon. At least they weren't Jehovah's Witnesses.

"Morning Charlie!" Gary greeting, revealing to Charlie that he was indeed a morning person. At least Kyra looked tired too; the girl seemed as if she would collapse out of exhaustion any minute.

Giving Gary a dead look, she asked, "What do you want?"

"I was thinking about what to do about Principal Estrada," Gary began eagerly. "Now, he might be right about no one in the school district doing something about him but he forgot something."

Gary went quiet, waiting for her to give the cue to continue. Charlie, though, continued to stare at him and after a minute, yawned widely, her jaw almost cracking from how far she lowered it. A couple minutes later, she figured out what Gary was doing and rolled her eyes.

"Well? What did he forget?" she asked, not really in the mood for this.

"The national media," Gary said enthusiastically. "We call up CNN or Fox News and they'll be all over this place. The school will have to do something about him."

Actually, that wasn't a bad idea.

"Do you have someone in mind?" she asked tiredly, wanting nothing more than to go back to her warm bed.

"Yep!" Gary chirped. "Get ready, I'm aiming big for this one. I'm going to call…" he paused, drawing out whatever tension he had hoped to create before laying it on her, "…Chris Hanson."

Charlie stared at the pair and yawned again. Then it hit her. "Wait, you're going to call that guy who interviews pedophiles and gets them to kill themselves?" she asked skeptically.

"Principal Estrada wouldn't be able to resist him," Gary told her. "Chris Hanson has this power where he can make anyone sit down and talk, even if it's about stuff the person doesn't want to talk about!"

"And you're saying that Principal Estrada isn't going to be immune to it?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," Gary confirmed before looking at Kyra. "Right?"

Kyra jumped slightly, her eyelids half closed as if she was about to fall asleep on her feet. "Huh? Oh, yeah, right."

Charlie raised an eyebrow skeptically. "What if he tries to pull out that illegal immigrant story that he's just trying to feed his family back in Mexico?"

"Chris Hanson's show ought to find out if that's the truth," Gary answered, "and if it's a lie, they'll nail him on national television. Plus, with such bad publicity, we might be able to reform the whole school district and maybe get some better teachers."

Charlie stared Gary down for another minute before sighing. "Okay, fine, you do that."

"Great!" Gary exclaimed. "C'mon Kyra, let's go!"

Charlie watched as Gary took off excitedly but Kyra remained on the front door step, her eyes firmly shut and light snoring coming from her. Huh, she must have been tired enough that she had fallen asleep standing up. Oh well.

Shrugging, she shut the door and locked it before making the trek back up to her room. She could probably milk another couple of hours before she had to get up for real.

* * *

Rhiannon finished wrapping the towel around her head as water rushed down the bathtub drain. Yes, she actually used the bathtub for something else other than when she was depressed. A hot bath had felt like a good idea earlier and she had to admit that she certainly wasn't regretting it as she felt more relaxed than she had before.

Adjusting the bathrobe she wore, she exited her bathroom, tensing slightly at the cooler air that hit her. It had been much warmer in the bathroom but that may have been because there had been a lot of hot water used. Well, whatever.

As she stepped into her bedroom, she came to a stop, a frown forming on her face. Right there on her bed stood what looked like a breakfast tray, the same kind one would use when having breakfast in bed. She noted that there was a small bouquet of roses in a small vase and her eyes ran over a plate of what looked like pancakes. There were small bowls of various fruits and one with syrup as well as a can of whipped cream.

She narrowed her eyes as she realized that those weren't pancakes but crepes. There was only one person she knew who lived in South Park who ate those on a regular basis.

She strolled over to her bedroom window and peered through the glass. Just as she thought, there stood Christophe in her backyard, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against her fence and angled so that he had a clear view of her bedroom window. What were the odds that he broke into her house unnoticed with a tray of breakfast foods?

Pretty damn good.

She stared blankly at him, not smiling or glaring. To be honest, she didn't know what to feel but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of getting a concrete answer. After staring him down, she turned around and left the window. She would have left her room altogether but she couldn't help it; those crepes just smelled too good.

She compromised with herself that she would just eat one and ignore the rest.

Yeah right.

* * *

Normally, DJ would be at home reading or surfing the net.

Circumstances, though, weren't normal. No, she had a point to prove, one that would allow her to say "I told you so" to everyone else. Well, maybe not that last part as she didn't give two shits if she had the opportunity to boast that she had been right. Let everybody else suffer, at least she would know the truth.

It had taken her a bit to figure out where the Cynis house was and another bit to confirm that it was their house. She knew that Bain Cynis was a bit of a recluse but did that extend to his whole family or something? Perhaps what was the biggest clue was that there was a tow truck taking away a fucked up pink car, one that looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and had a party. She had never seen the car before and the three people who stood outside of the house each had a resemblance to Bain.

The absolute confirmation, though, was when the tow truck driver had called one of them "Mrs. Cynis." Yeah, he had been giving the woman he was addressing a longing look but DJ had ignored that mainly because she too was momentarily captivated by Mrs. Cynis' looks as well. If she didn't know better, she thought she was turning gay for a second.

Anyway, there was another girl out there, one who was much younger than Mrs. Cynis but older than DJ herself. And was it her or was that suitcase floating in the air all by itself? Periodically, she would see what looked like the ghostly apparition of a large, mousy man but she couldn't be too sure about that.

"But Dad!" the girl was whining. "Can't I stay until my car gets back?"

It was when the large, mousy man spoke that he seemed to become more solid. "You've missed too much school Sierra. You need to be getting back to the University."

This Sierra, who seemed to be a college girl, continued to act younger than her age, at least to DJ she did, as she continued to complain. "But how will I be able to get around? I'll be stuck at the dorms!"

"Use the bus," replied the man whom DJ believed was the father. "It's there for a reason." Hold up, how'd he get from the car back to the front door even though she was staring right at him? It's like he faded out of existence only to reappear in another spot! That was so weird.

Okay so both the father and Sierra were inside, that left only the person she suspected to be the mother outside speaking with the tow truck driver…and was she feeling the guy up? Damn, it was almost like seeing the Cartman family only with more people. Huh, maybe that was why Bain and Cartman didn't get along; they were too similar in personality to one another.

The father was coming back out with another suitcase, Sierra following after him but this time she was talking about something else. "You have to believe me! He did this! He ruined my car just like he ruined my dolls! He has to be faking it, he has to be!"

Looks like she could say "I told you so" sooner than she thought. Someone had caught on but it looked like it had happened at the most inopportune moment. From what she understood, this potential ally she had was leaving and there was nothing she could do to use her. More observation; she better find out something soon because she did not want to be out here any longer than needed. She wanted to get back home where she could think in relative privacy. Maybe catch up on some reading. And watch that autopsy video. And check her e-mail.

She was a busy person.

The slamming of a car door interrupted her musing; damn, she had zoned out. What was going on now? Okay, the tow truck was leaving…who the hell got a pink car anyway? If she had known about it, she would have beaten Bain to the punch and torn it apart herself. If she wasn't so centered on Bain being the guy responsible, she'd suspected somebody else in the neighborhood did it…

And that was what Bain was probably betting on. Damn, that was smart but not smart enough to fool her.

There. It had taken her bit but she had found him. Right there, peering through one of the windows was Bain. The glare of the sun on the glass was obscuring him so she couldn't get a good fix on him but she was sure he was watching what was going on outside. Smug bastard was probably gloating.

But then why would he need his sister not at the house? It was a thought that struck her and she knew she had to expand on it. Was it because she was catching on to his act? Or was he up to something big? That was probably it.

Well, she was going to burst his bubble if only to piss him off. Still, she wondered where anybody got the idea they'd be a couple. They weren't anything alike and even though people stopped thinking about it, it had never really left her. She didn't know why but she had felt the need to prove to herself that she was nothing like the bastard.

And she was going to do it soon, so long as Bain didn't give her the slip.

* * *

After compiling together what they knew about the case so far, Yates had come to one conclusion.

They had no fucking clue where they were stood and were no closer to solving the case than they were at the beginning. Damn it, where were those Hardy boys when you needed them? He needed a raging clue right about now but all the clues he had were flimsy and flaccid. It was getting them nowhere!

He didn't want to live in a world where fat people were beaten up and left for dead by some unknown assailant. That was the cops' job!

"Damn it Murphy!" he exclaimed, slamming the file onto his desk. "We're getting nowhere on this case!"

"That case came in today," Murphy said. "Just this morning too."

"It doesn't matter!" Yates stated. "You know that if we're nowhere near to pinning a perp, or framing an innocent black man, within twenty-four hours that the case will go cold. Why the hell weren't those school security cameras working during the time of the ass-whooping? It would have been hilarious to watch and we would have seen the perp!"

"Well why don't you ask that friend of yours what they think?" Murphy suggested.

"You mean _hellspawn666_?" Yates asked. "I would have already but he hasn't been answering my e-mails or text messages. It's like he's dropped off the face of the earth… Wait, what if he has been killed? Murphy, look for every report of a homicide in the nation in the past six months!"

"I can't do that sir," Murphy replied. "Besides, what if he's from another country?"

"Goddamn it!" Yates cried. "I might as well take off my badge! I'm a failure as a cop!"

As Yates continued to blubber, Murphy sighed and turned to his desk phone, picking it up and dialing a number.

"Yeah, it's me again," he said. "Harrison's going through another midlife crises. Uh huh. Yep. Let me see…yep. Thanks, I wish you luck taking care of your husband. Yeah, I do think tickling his ass would put him in a good mood. No, I don't want to come over for a threeway. Yes. Yes. Alright, thank you."

Hanging up, Murphy took a look at Yates and shook his head. "Yates, put down the razor. You're not a freakin' Goth kid."


	15. Let's Do an Experiment!

Author's Note: I bet you guys will be able to figure out what's going to happen in the next couple of chapters but if not, you'll find out in all due time. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

Let's Do an Experiment!

Stan frowned as he ended the call. Why wasn't Kyle picking up? Today was a slow day and he thought he might as well waste it with his best friend. However, he hadn't been able to come into contact with him no matter how many times he called or texted him.

He felt abandoned for a moment; why now did it seem like he and Kyle weren't spending a lot of time with one another? Now that he looked back it, he noticed that Kyle always seemed to be in a hurry to get back home. It sometimes took a lot more pleading with Kyle in order to get him to come hang out and when he did hang out, it wasn't long before Kyle got antsy, like he didn't want to be there.

Was something going on with his family that he didn't know? Dude, they told each other almost everything! He could remember times when Kyle would come to him for advice on how to handle whatever problem had cropped up with his parents or brother and Kyle would do the same for him.

Or maybe…maybe Kyle had a girlfriend! Oh that dog, how could he not tell him about it? He was probably racking up the phone bill talking to her or online chatting with her. Why hadn't he figured it out before? Maybe he was out spending time with her.

And maybe he was keeping it hush hush so that Cartman didn't rip on him. Yeah, the fatass had a talent to twist anything good that happened to Kyle into something insulting. But still, why hadn't he told him about it?

He'd call his home number instead of the cell but he had already done that and had gotten Mrs. Broflovski who had been the one to tell him about Kyle being out. Since Kyle also wasn't picking up his cell, Stan knew he would have to wait until his friend either got back home, showed up at his house, or stop being a little bitch and answer his fucking phone!

In the meanwhile, he was bored as hell and stuck in his house on a Saturday. That was so super lame that it wasn't Butters lame.

He perked up at the thought of Butters. Was that gullible blond doing something? …was he that desperate that he'd hang out with Butters? Okay, last resort and not until then.

So who else was there? Wendy? Not in the mood and plus they were kinda on the outs right now. Token? Maybe if the guy wanted to play some football or basketball. Craig? Fuck no. Clyde? He'd be a part of any package that had either Token or Craig so maybe. He knew he was forgetting about someone but who?

Maybe he should go and ask Kenny if there was someone he was forgetting. If anything, the perverted blond, if he wasn't too busy perving on any of the girls in town, could keep him entertained for a bit. Hey, maybe Kenny knew if there was a party going on tonight.

Still, he couldn't help but feel he was forgetting about someone.

* * *

Hmm, this was going to be tricky but Bain believed it could be pulled off. He just needed to figure out if the school had a wet or dry system set up as each system would determine how he would be able to enter the polypropylene into the system. He hoped that he was dealing with the dry system because he had some creative idea on how to get the coolant in.

He didn't know if the school district kept this kind of information on their website or in some highly accessible place but he determinedly delved into the school's online domain in search of his answers.

Damn. Damn. Shit, whose dick did you have to suck around here to get a decent bit of information? Really? Hmm, let's try the search feature…hmm, maybe he was getting somewhere.

He narrowed his eyes and he rapidly read what was on the computer monitor until finally he spotted something that related to his interest. Delving further into it, he smirked as he came upon his answers.

Oh, it was a dry system. He should have expected that as it commonly got below 40°F in this area. He pondered for a second if they used Freon in the pipes; if so that might counteract the polypropylene and he couldn't have that happening. But then why use a dry system if you were using Freon?

He was just going to have to risk it.

Opening a drawer in his desk, he took out his car keys and pocketed them while closing the windows that showed the South Park High School's website and one on fire sprinkler systems.

* * *

Rhiannon could feel there were eyes on her and not just multiple pairs but a single pair. She had a good feeling she knew who it was that was watching her but she was not going to let it get her down. Not when she was finally starting to feel better.

She had called up Ryleigh and managed to get the other girl to agree to hang out with her. At least she wouldn't be alone and would have an easier time ignoring Christophe. The thing was, Ryleigh was asking a few too many questions and when they were beginning to edge into territory she did not want to explore, she came up with the first thing on her mind that she could use to distract the other girl.

That was why Rhiannon was in the one place she didn't plan on being in until she felt more sure of herself. Ryleigh, though, wouldn't be dissuaded unless it was the mall. It turned out though that Ryleigh had a purpose for going to the outlet, one that did not meet up with wandering around aimlessly and window shop.

No, Ryleigh was in the market for a karaoke machine. Go fig. Ryleigh had a great admiration for those that had good voices and could play a few instruments herself. As she found out, Ryleigh wanted to use her to help her pick out the right machine and the way to do that was to actually use it.

Rhiannon just figured that Ryleigh would just pick up any machine that she happened to like but apparently it was more complicated as Ryleigh mention things like testing the speakers, making sure the monitor wasn't difficult to look at, and a couple other things that went over her head.

But it did succeed in distracting her from Christophe, she had to give it that.

She watched, slightly fascinated yet slightly bored at the same time, as Ryleigh tinkered with a microphone, tapping it when tilting her head so that she could listen to the speaker. It seemed very, very strange to Rhiannon but who was she to talk? She was a walking rainbow for fucks' sake.

Without looking at her, Ryleigh held up the mic and said, "Sing into this."

Rhiannon blinked at the other girl. "Huh?"

"C'mon, sing," Ryleigh said almost exasperated. "Do a 'do re mi' thing or whatever. I want to hear how the speakers work with the mic."

"Okay…" she frowned. "Uh…ahh ahh ahh ah ahhhh?"

"I don't know…" Ryleigh frowned. "Do it again."

Rhiannon rolled her eyes but sang again. Ryleigh continued to frown though.

"Damn, that doesn't sound right. Oh well, next machine."

"Why don't you just grab one?" Rhiannon asked. "You've been at this for almost an hour."

"Music comes from the soul, Skittles," Ryleigh told her seriously. "Getting a random karaoke only to find out it's a piece of shit is a waste of time. I want to get a good one and not have to worry about it."

"Worry about what?"

Rhiannon turned, tensing but then relaxing at who she saw. "Chelsea! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you for ages!"

"I'm still waiting for the heat to die down," Chelsea shrugged, glancing over her shoulder.

"Heat? What heat?" Ryleigh frowned. "Everyone's forgotten about that fire at school. They're more interested in picking on that Bain kid."

"Really? Didn't know that," Chelsea said absentmindedly. Rhiannon tilted her head, wondering what was going through the other girl's head at the moment. Was it her or did Chelsea seem to be elsewhere? Mentally speaking, that is. Wait…

"Are you just using that as an excuse to ditch school?" she deadpanned.

Chelsea's eyes snapped over to her and stared right into her. The pyro's lips slowly upturned and a chuckle escaped from them. "Not much gets past you, huh?" she laughed.

Rhiannon shared a look with Ryleigh, one that could easily say "why am I not surprised?"

"Did you know your boyfriend's here?" Chelsea asked. "I saw him out there a minute ago. He was just standing there like he was waiting for something."

If there was one thing that came out of that, it was proof that Rhiannon wasn't crazy. Not only that, she had nailed him on her first guess too. Unfortunately, that meant nothing as Christophe wouldn't automatically drop off the face of the earth and rot in hell now that she knew. Then again…

"Hey Chels, can you do something for me?" she asked suddenly.

"Depends if it's legit or not," Chelsea replied automatically.

"Rhiannon?" Ryleigh asked, wondering what she was up to.

Rhiannon, though, was feeling particularly malicious right now and luckily she had a target in which to be sadistic to. "Well, it involves fire if you're interested."

Chelsea's eyes lit up at that, the possibility of fire being involved overriding any and all precautions she had. Rhiannon knew she had the taller girl when she saw interest flood those dark eyes.

"Well…" she began, leaning conspiratorially closer to Chelsea.

* * *

Christophe was bored and a mall was the last place he wanted to be but this was where Rhiannon had gone to. What was the deal with malls anyway? Why did you have to go from store to store looking for something and not buy anything and when you did buy something it was usually in bulk? Shouldn't you already know what you want in advance and just get those items you were looking for?

Shopping would never become a sport, no matter what people said.

He shot a quick look towards the electronics store Rhiannon was in with that monochrome friend of hers, making sure that the splatter of rainbow was still looking. He couldn't make it look like he was stalking someone, which he was. He needed to make it look like he was just a regular teen there to hang out and do nothing but sit around and complain about unfair parents, like those Goth kids were over by the fountain. Otherwise, he'd stick out like a sore thumb and as a mercenary, you needed to blend in with your surroundings.

Anyway, he had a plan he had to implement here. He figured that he might as well pay for any and all purchases his ex made to try and butter her up, making her more susceptible to listen to him or at least tolerate his company for two minutes, whichever came first.

Sometimes he wondered why he got in relationships. They were so high maintenance and at times seemed like they weren't worth the effort.

One more time he glanced casually at the electronics store, frowning slightly when he saw Rhiannon speaking with Chelsea Richey. Now how did she get past his surveillance? Oh well, as long as she wasn't posing a threat to his self-imposed mission then she and Rhiannon could make out for all he cared.

Actually, that wasn't a bad thought. Lesbo action. That was how he knew he was straight; he enjoyed lesbian porn as any self-respecting straight man would. And he was European and everyone knows that Europeans were connoisseurs of anything sexual. They had commercials with women exposing their breasts on a regular basis. Americans were so frustrating as they considered unbuttoning the top two buttons of a Polo shirt as exposing yourself.

Hm, Chelsea was gone and no hot lesbo action either. Maybe next time if he could persuade Rhiannon into going along with it. She hadn't been too keen with a threesome when he suggested it when they were still dating, especially when he had mentioned there being two girls and one of him in the mix.

"Hey Mole," Chelsea Richey greeted from beside him, almost scaring him. Almost.

He raised an eyebrow at her, a bit peeved that she had managed to sneak up on him without him being aware of it. Maybe he was a bit too immersed in his own thoughts…

"Is zere something you want?" he asked gruffly. He was not in the mood to play little games right now.

"What? Can't a girl just say hi anymore?" Chelsea replied smoothly, slapping him companionably on the back.

"Normally, I would say yes," he told her. "Right now, I am not in ze mood, so to speak."

"Got a little sand in your vagina?" Chelsea mused aloud, earning her a dark look from him. He could let a lot of things go but indirectly calling him a pussy was a peeve of his. If you were going to call him a pussy, call him a damn pussy to his face and don't try to be vague about it.

"I would appreciate it if you left me alone," he said, doing his best not to snap at her.

"Your funeral," Chelsea shrugged. "Maybe you should stop following Rhiannon like a puppy. I might be able to believe you better."

He said nothing and intensified his glare, which seemed to have no effect on the pyromaniac. She just flashed him a smile and turned on her heel, leaving him in his solitude with her lit cigarette lighter in hand. Huh, so that small clicking sound he heard wasn't his imagination.

He shifted uncomfortably, feeling hot for some reason. What was this all about? And why was he starting to smell smoke?

"Oh my god, he's spontaneously combusting!" a woman cried out and he looked in her direction, noticing that the woman in question was pointing straight at him.

Spontaneous combustion? Would that explain the smoke he was starting to see? His frown deepened and he followed the trail of smoke to find out that flames were licking against his jacket. He was on fire…wait, he was on fire?

"Sheet!" he cursed as he tore his jacket off and flung it onto the floor, stomping his booted feet on it to try and stop the flames.

Fuck! That was one of his favorite jackets! It was a good thing it was thick but he would have to examine himself to see if he got burned. It would be a bitch if he had gotten a burn that was not a result from one of his missions.

As the flames died, his mind brought up something from a moment ago. Chelsea had slapped him on the back and now that he was taking in where the fire was, he calculated that it was right about where that girl had slapped him. Had…had she set him on fucking fire?

He snapped his head up and glared in the direction that he had last seen Chelsea go then looked towards the electronics store where Rhiannon and her friend were nowhere to be seen. Son of a bitch, he had lost her!

"Are you all right, son?" a mall cop asked him. "You know, it's okay to fart. Don't let it build up on you or you might really spontaneously combust."

He gave the mall cop a deadpan look and snatched up his jacket, ignore any calls for him to wait for some medical attention.

* * *

Okay, the parents were gone and with them the sister. That left only Bain inside of the building. Or it was only Bain until Bain himself came out of the house holding some things under his arm. DJ couldn't tell what they were exactly but she was suspicious of why Bain was holding them.

That suspicion doubled as she saw Bain head over to a tarp and lift it up, showing that there was something black underneath it. She narrowed her eyes to try and see if she could make out what the black thing was but as it turned out, she needn't have done that. Bain lifted up an end of the object revealing the inside of a car trunk where he put the things under his arm.

This was unexpected; he had a car or at least he had access to one. He had been holding back on them.

She continued to watch as Bain shut the car trunk, sealing the objects that he had carried and thus preventing her from finding out what they were. She was dwelling on that fact perhaps a bit too long because she only then noticed that Bain was still standing in front of the tarp-covered car, his head turned enough that he could…probably see her…watching him…

Well shit.

Abruptly, Bain headed back inside, as if not caring that he had had an audience. Did he not care he was being spied on? Or maybe he believed that her watching him wouldn't change anything. But change what? The fact that she knew he was faking amnesia?

Okay, he was coming back out but he didn't seem to be holding anything. So what was the reason for him coming outside this time? He was just standing there and doing nothing like a retard. Suddenly, she watched him look straight up at her and gestured to her with a finger, signaling for her to come to him. Well, she knew that was the last thing she was going to do. Who knew what the psycho wanted to do with her.

In order to make sure he knew that she wasn't going to cross the street to meet him, she flipped him the bird and raised her chin up. How'd he like that, huh?

As if her giving him the middle finger was a signal, Bain was running at her and he was halfway across the street before she realized that she ought to be fleeing for her life. So run she did but not fast enough as she felt her head being jerked back as Bain yanked her by her hair. She hissed in pain and turned around just enough to try and punch him. He caught her arm and pulled her up against him, twisting her around so that he pressed up against her back with her arm pinned between them.

Bain chuckled darkly into her ear and she squirmed in his tight grip, trying to break free. "You know, nosy, little cunts ought to mind their own business. Well, if you're so curious, I guess I'll let you in on my little scheme, eh?"

"I knew it," she hissed as Bain removed his hand from her arm but before she could take advantage of it, she felt something solid strike her in the back of the head and the next thing she knew was darkness.

* * *

There was a reason why Kyra was so tired. That reason was because she had spent all night staying up with Gary, trying to think of a way to beat Principal Estrada. It had been in the early hours of the morning, when dawn was still hours away, that they came up with the idea of getting the rest of the nation in on this.

Gary…she had no idea where he got his energy. He had gone a full twenty-four hours without sleep and he was still moving around like he had gotten the recommended eight hours of sleep that all those scientist guys said you should get. It wasn't like she couldn't do it either but usually when she stayed up twenty-four hours, there was a game controller in her hands and she was pwning n00bs left and right like it was nobody's business.

She didn't have that stimulation right now and so her falling asleep at Charlie's front door. Charlie slamming the door in her face woke her up for a moment, making her wonder where the hell she was and why wasn't she in bed? She almost drifted off again but Gary had come back to drag her off again and that was why she was back at his house where she could hear the rest of the Mormon family going about their usual business and all of it so…cheerful…

Was this a whole family of morning people?

"Okay, I have some bad news," Gary spoke to her suddenly.

Having been not paying any attention to anything around her and practically about to collapse in exhaustion, Kyra was momentarily given a spurt of energy. Where had he come from? Had he been in the same room with her or had he left? She wasn't sure as her arousal had faded by now and she was starting to eye the pillow on Gary's bed.

"I haven't been able to get a hold of Chris Hanson yet," the Mormon told her. "His show keeps putting me on hold or telling me to call back later. This is going to take a lot more time than I thought."

"Can I go home and get some rest?" she asked tiredly, not caring if Jesus himself was on hold or whatever the hell Gary was talking about.

"Yeah, I think I can handle things here," Gary told her before getting a good look at her. "Wow, you look like you're about to keel over. Why don't you sleep on my bed? That way you won't get hurt on your way home."

She didn't need to be told twice as she fell over to a side and lost consciousness.

* * *

Rhiannon and Ryleigh were still giggling about the trick Rhiannon had played on her ex-boyfriend and as a reward for her ingenuity, the two agreed to get a couple of shakes at the food court.

"I still can't get his face out of my head!" Ryleigh chortled. "The way his eyes got so big, he was like 'Sheet!' or however it is he says shit! He didn't see Chelsea coming!"

"I can't believe he didn't suspect her of anything," Rhiannon admitted between sniggers. "He's usually so quick to catch on to things."

"And if he doesn't, at least he's quick to react," Ryleigh added. "I wish I had a camera on me. I could spend the rest of my life replaying that again and again…and again…"

The fact that they had been in an electronics store where she could have grabbed a cheap knockoff completely went over their heads.

"I wonder where Chelsea went?" Rhiannon asked. "I haven't seen her since she set him on fire."

"You know Chels," Ryleigh said. "Whether it's by accident or on purpose, once she realizes that's she's done something wrong, she takes off. I think she once told me it was to give the cops a hard time and make them work for their pay or something."

"That sounds like her," Rhiannon agreed. "Could care less about getting caught but doesn't want to go down easy."

Rhiannon found herself stopping, noticing that Ryleigh was not at her side anymore. Glancing back at her, she saw that Ryleigh was looking at something ahead of them and whatever it was, it was something that wasn't going to be making anyone happy for an inexplicable reason. At least, that's how Rhiannon figured what it was.

Looking towards where Ryleigh was looking, she found her gaze was leading her to a different couple of people, both blonde girls. Oh, it was Bebe and Kim. Was that what was making Ryleigh behave differently?

Oh wait, Ryleigh didn't like Bebe. That was as in she hated her guts and was only able to put aside her animosity when there was gossip to distract her. It was the same for Bebe who also didn't like brunette for probably the same reasons as Ryleigh to her.

"Why…don't we go this way…" Ryleigh said dourly. "I have an allergy to blonde bitches and cunts."

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "Are you really going to let her get to you that much? C'mon Ryleigh."

"Skittles? Where are you going?" Ryleigh half asked, half demanded, her eyes narrowing when she saw that Rhiannon was heading in the direction of Bebe.

It was at this time that Bebe spotted the rainbow splatter of a girl and the brunette monochrome and Rhiannon could see her cheery face melt into a scowl as if her whole day had been ruined. Kim noticed this and also saw the train wreck that was about to happen. Rhiannon had to give her credit, Kim did try to advert the impending disaster by trying to turn Bebe in another direction.

It proved fruitless when Bebe called out, "Having another wardrobe malfunction? I think I can hear a cat screaming in agony because of how horrible it is!"

Nearby, there was a pet store where a cat indeed was screaming in agony but that was because of the rabies and not because of a fashion statement.

"Blimey," Rhiannon muttered under her breath.

"Oh? How do you know it's not the stench of a whore?" Ryleigh spat back, venom audible in her voice.

"What did you say?" Bebe sneered, Kim putting an arm in front of her and trying to pull her away from the inevitable.

"Too much crap in your ears?" Ryleigh insulted. "Maybe you're going deaf."

"Oh, what about you?" Bebe shot back. "Are you colorblind or something?"

Rhiannon had to stand between the two girls, holding Ryleigh back who looked like she was angry enough to rip off the other girl's face. Kim was also reacting respectively towards Bebe and from the corner of her eye, Rhiannon noticed that they were attracting some attention.

Not good.

"Let's _go_ Ryleigh," she said, emphasizing the word go. Ryleigh's nostrils were flaring as she glared back at Bebe as if she hadn't heard a word.

"Yeah, leave with the fashion don't, why don't you?" Bebe taunted.

Rhiannon threw a glare at Bebe but didn't react in any other way. Personally, she didn't care what people thought of her tastes and the glare was there to say "You're not helping," a message that Bebe didn't seem to receive.

"Bebe, knock it off!" Kim growled, successfully pulling the blonde away. "I didn't come here for this shit!"

Finally, someone who was rational.

It seemed that the larger the distance between the two was, the easier it was to pull Bebe and Ryleigh away from each other. However, as Rhiannon finally got far enough away to the point that Bebe and Kim were no longer in sight or easily spotted, she caught sight of the Sex God watching her, back on her trail.

She groaned and whacked Ryleigh on the back of her head lightly. "Thanks a lot , Genius. My ex found us."

Ryleigh huffed and crossed her arms. "Fucking bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Oh this was just a recipe for fun, wasn't it?

* * *

It felt like a slap.

DJ gasped as something cold and wet hit her, the sensation reminiscent of being slapped. Goddamn it, she was cold! Where—where the hell was she?

She could see that wherever she was, the lighting was dim, it was cramped, and there was someone else with her. Memories that she could recall gave her a pretty good idea of just who it was that was standing before her and she was becoming pissed just thinking about it.

"You're awake. Good," Bain Cynis commented dully. The creep had the nerve to look like she was giving him the hard time and not the other way around. She could see his eyes and immediately she recognized the arrogance in them.

She had him.

"Tired of acting?" she goaded. "I was beginning to wonder when you were going to drop it."

"What act?" Bain demanded, looking at her peeved.

"You know what I'm talking about," she spat out. "That having amnesia bullshit."

Bain blinked at her before suddenly releasing an unexpected laugh as if he had been told a hilarious joke.

This only served to annoy her and she said, "What the fuck are you laughing at?"

"You really are the definition of a cynic," Bain sneered at her, still chuckling. "Honestly, do you think someone like me would go through all that effort to fake _amnesia_ of all things? Ha! I guess we know who the real idiot around here is."

Like hell he was going there. She opened her mouth but Bain had cleared the distance between them and had grabbed her by her jaw, preventing her from being able to say what she wanted. Bain looked at her contemptuously like she was an insect in a bug collection. She was remembering all 101 ways she hated this guy…

"Do you think that if I was faking that I would allow all that shit those assholes did to me go?" he asked her rhetorically. "Thrown into a garbage can, pelted with countless spitballs, glued to my seat, enduring _Cartman_ of all people? If I was faking then I would have broken 'character' a long time ago. No, the amnesia was real. Even now I can tell; all those experiences during the past two weeks, none of them have the emotions I usually express. They all feel like something a pussy would think of. Why ask myself what I did to get that kind of treatment when I damn well know that they were doing it to take advantage of my weakness."

He violently shoved her back, leaving her to rub her jaw as she could still feel his fingers pressing into it crushingly. She opened her mouth slightly, wincing at how she needed to flex it a bit before she could realistically reply back.

"Are you still claiming it was real?" she demanded. "Just give it up already."

"Heh, why am I not surprised?" Bain said mockingly. "I could probably give you a thousand reasons why it was real and not me pretending but I bet you won't believe a fucking word I'd say. So, I won't say a damn thing to that; it's beneath me just like you are."

"You haven't changed one bit," she retorted. "You're still the same sexist prick you always were."

"Oh, there's a difference this time," Bain corrected. "I'm a sexist prick with a score to settle and I have a creative scheme at my disposal. Now, if you will take a good look at your surroundings, we can get started."

What the hell was he smoking? He was making no sense right now and why the hell should she look around? She might as well do as she was instructed seeing as how she didn't know where she was and she might find a way out of this, whatever 'this' was.

It was a large room, she found, with counters that were devoid of anything items but other than that, there was nothing to write home about. She looked back at Bain defiantly, daring him to do something.

Bain smirked at her. "You haven't figured it out yet, have you? Allow me to enlighten you; you see we are in what the lay person would call a 'walk-in refrigerator.' However, this isn't just any 'walk-in,' it belongs to Mephisto labs so it's capable of reaching degrees so low that you'd be frozen solid. However, for our little experiment today, I have it set at about a little over forty degrees Fahrenheit."

Okay…and what did any of this have to do anything other than answer why it was so cold in here.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she was hit with a liquid and she sputtered at the foul-tasting substance that managed to get into her mouth. Christ, what the hell was this stuff?

Bain cleared his throat, diverting her anger in his direction where she could see he was holding a water hose. He had it pinched so that only a puny trickle of water was coming out but she couldn't see what he was up to.

"I see you're starting to ask some questions," Bain spoke as if he could read her thoughts. "Here's the situation. What I have drenched you in is a substance called polypropylene, a coolant typically used in making artificial ice rinks. You see, it raises the freezing point of water so that they don't have to lower a room's temperature to thirty-two degrees or lower. Now, the reason why I'm holding this hose here is to test a theory I have. I hope you don't begrudge me using you as a little guinea pig. I want to make sure this works before I put it into practice."

By now she had figured out what Bain was planning to do but like hell she was going to give him the chance to try and freeze her or whatever it was he was trying to do.

She was too late as Bain unpinched the hose and she was covered in water.

The cold around her intensified and as much as she tried to get out of the spray, her movement was slowing down to the point she was having difficulty in moving. The last thing she saw was Bain's malevolent expression before everything began to blur.

* * *

"Jesus Christ," Yates uttered as he stared in horror at the frozen ice block of a girl.

According to the hospital, she had been found outside the front entrance with a piece of paper attached. The gist of the note said that they had eleven minutes to thaw her out or else she would remain frozen forever. The hospital was busy doing so but Yates had managed to show up while the girl was still frozen.

He had never seen anything like this in all his time as a cop.

"What do you make of this?" Murphy asked from beside him, also awed.

Yates closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long suffering sigh. "It's ridiculous yet it has answered so many questions. I never thought I'd see the day when someone would go as far as to copy from that awful movie that Joel Schumacher made. At the very least, we know who the culprit is."

"We do?" Murphy asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

Yates gave his partner a look that clearly said "what are you, a n00b?" but nevertheless answered his partner.

"There's only one person who would ever do something as corny as this," Yates said. "Gather the boys together, Murphy, we're going to have to arrest…"

Insert dramatic pause here.

"…Arnold Schwarzenegger."

"That bastard…" Murphy muttered under his breath, finally catching on to Yates' train of thinking. Looks like they were going on a road trip.


	16. Setup

Author's Note: Second to last chapter here. As the chapter suggests, this is setting up for the big finale. Y'all probably noticed that a couple subplots are not ending with happy or pleasant endings. There's a reason for that which I'll explain next chapter so in the meantime, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, death

Setup

South Park High, the bane of all teenagers' existence. It stood as a stoic monument to countless dreams crushed and the retardation of so many generations, including Bain's.

Oh, before he forgot, no pun intended.

So many mixed memories, all of which he could care less about as in a few years they wouldn't carry any weight for him. That was a primary reason as to why he had to do this; he couldn't let them all get away with what they did now, especially with said transgressions still so fresh in his memory.

If all went well, they would all know who was responsible yet have no shred of evidence that he had committed the crime. The teachers would be helpless, the police hopeless, and the moronic parents terrorized. Bain bet he could probably start another "protect the children!" panic that seemed to be so easy to do in this town.

Even on the verge of adulthood, they were all treated like they were immature brats, which over half of them were.

He had parked his car behind the school where it was less likely that anyone would see it. He would need an extreme amount of privacy for this and there was a circuit box out here so he could disable any security cameras on the off chance that Estrada had left them on. He toyed with the key in his hand, the same one he had taken from Cartman's person after his assault on the fat tub of lard. There was a good chance that the cameras would be off since Estrada had been the one to give Cartman the key in the first place and if the illegal had any sense in his head, he would make sure nothing of what Cartman had planned would be traced back to him.

Still, the precautions would be taken. He would be damned if he got caught because of a little oversight.

He got out of his car and searched for the circuit box, finding it after a few minutes worth of searching. When the key to the school turned out not to be the skeleton key he had hoped for it to be, he took out his switchblade, preferring not to dirty Winslow with such a menial task, and jabbed it into the lock. He had to pause at this, remembering that the fire axes in the school had no locks on them but the circuit box outside did.

Somebody's priorities were fucked up.

With a careful twist, he managed to unlock the circuit box and pry open the thin metal door. He stared at all the circuits within, trying to figure out which ones controlled which functions. To hell with it; he turned them all off, not caring if he could be screwing something up inside the building. There shouldn't be too much damage that a common electrician couldn't fix.

He returned to his car where he stopped, frowning slightly at the sound of something banging. It was muffled and he had a pretty good idea as to what was causing it.

Going to the trunk, he opened it and stared blandly at the bound and gagged figure of Terrance Mephisto, the intellectual brunet and son of Dr. Mephisto glaring bloody murder at him. He had forgotten about him after knocking him out so that he could use his father's refrigerated room. He'd only stuck him in the trunk so that there was less of a chance the teen could mess things up.

Whoops.

"Sorry about the inconvenience," he said blithely, "but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for your continued patience a little longer. If you will excuse me…" He reached into the trunk and pulled out a few of his father's tools that he had taken earlier, the items in questions pressed up against Terrance in the cramped space. Also, he pulled out a jug of polypropylene that he had wedged in with the restrained teen. "There, you should be more comfortable now."

Ignoring the muffled curses and threats aimed at him, he slammed the trunk shut.

* * *

"We need to talk."

Both Rhiannon and Ryleigh froze up at the accented voice that held an immense commanding presence to it. As much as Rhiannon wanted to keep going, the voice of her ex had a tone of gravity to it that demanded that she take a break from what she was doing and pay attention.

She didn't need to turn around to see Christophe was five feet behind her; she could feel those dark eyes of his boring into her, more than demanding that she better not _think_ about trying to get away. As much as she wanted to piss him off further since setting him on fire didn't seem to get through to him, she knew that even if she wanted to Christophe had his ways of making things unpleasant.

"What do you want?" she said, not bothering to look at him. She could see Ryleigh glancing at her worriedly from the corner of her eye but she was not meeting her friend's look. Who knew what her ex would be able to read from such an action?

"To geet a word in wiz you wizout you 'arming my person," Christophe stated. "Preferably in private."

She was half tempted to scream "rape!" out loud and give him some unwanted attention.

"Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of my friend," she said boldly.

"Hey, don't drag me into this," Ryleigh said warningly.

"Zis does not concern 'er," Christophe insisted. "We've been beating 'round ze bush for too long. I want to try and fix zings between us."

"What's there to fix?" she spat. "You left me for Leo!"

"Leo and I are not dating," he told her. "We never were….zough he would wish differently."

"So you broke up with him too?" she accused.

She was spun around and forced to look into her ex's angered eyes. "Privacy now, Edwards," he growled. She flinched slightly at the use of her last name; never before had he used it. He always called her by her first name or that nickname that the kids at school called her but never her last name.

"Maybe you should talk with him," Ryleigh said warily, eyeing Christophe. "I'll…I'll be over there. If you need help, scream."

"You are such a good friend," Rhiannon rolled her eyes.

"Zis way," Christophe muttered to her as he led her to a more concealed location. Noticing a women's restroom that had an out of order sign on it, the mercenary looked both ways then shoved his way in, dragging her with him.

"What the fuck?" she demanded, ripping her arm out of his grip.

However, Christophe spoke immediately after she did, cutting off anything she wanted to say. "I should be asking you zat. What ze 'ell is going on in zat 'ead of yours?" he demanded.

"I should be the one asking that questions!" she shouted back. "Where do you get off toying with me, huh?"

"Since when 'ave I toyed with you?" he shot back.

"Since we first met!" she shouted. "Remember? You used me so that you could get together with somebody else!"

"I admit I was wrong to do zat," he said, "but 'ave I ever done it again, hmm? Since we became a couple, when 'ave I done anyzing to hurt you?"

"I remember a time you told me you were gay!" she retorted. "Does that ring a bell?"

"Et was bicurious," he said, his voice low in tone, "and I told you I was still questioning. I still am!"

"And that's suppose to make me feel better?" she demanded.

"I was just asking for little support," he snapped, practically glaring at her. "For some understanding. Do you know 'ow long I agonized over telling you?"

"It took what, two weeks?" she snarked.

"You 'ave no idea what et's like to question yourself on this scale," he shot back. "I am wondering if I shouldn't 'ave told you about zis in ze first place!"

"_Now_ you're thinking about staying in the closet?" she said incredulously. "Why now of all times are you considering this? You're not making any fucking sense anymore!"

"Am I?" he asked dryly. "Rhiannon, ze only reason it took me so long to tell you about what I was experiencing was because I _knew_ you were going to react just like zis! An' you know what? You've been proving all my suspicions _correct_!"

She found herself coming up short. What?

"Some part of me hoped zat you would 'ave stayed in ze car, try to talk me zrough it," Christophe told her emphatically. "I wanted zat so we stayed friends. But some other part of me knew you would freak out. Et knew zat you would get out of ze car wizout trying to understand anything. Et knew that you would do whatever it took to ignore me like I was a leper. And zis whole time, zat part of me 'as been _right_."

Rhiannon found her mouth opening but nothing came out. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't make any words come out.

"I 'ad 'igh 'opes for you, Rhiannon," he said sadly. "I still can't believe…how much you're proven me right."

Okay, she wasn't going to listen to this. Where did he come off thinking that he was not in the wrong? It was all about him! What about her?

"You've only been talking about yourself, about how things affect you!" she said. "You have such high expectations for yourself but what about me? Can't I expect something from you? Can't I also have expectations? Can't I have someone in my life who I can give my heart to and trust them not to break it or go behind my back? Well?"

Christophe looked like he was going to say something but he paused, looking as if he was thinking over her words. Sighing, he said, "I guess it's not fair to hold you to a different standard and another for myself. You're right, I haven't been the best you could have. You do deserve much more and right now, I am not sure I can give it to you."

She had fully been expecting another accusation but this…she didn't know what to think of this. Was…was he admitting that he was wrong? That's what she was getting from him but she couldn't be too sure about it. He was a mercenary and he was good at hiding his emotions from her. It wouldn't be the first time he had tried to hide what he was thinking from her.

"Stop it!" she snapped. "Just, just stop it! Stop being all…whatever you are! Stop trying to be so sorry! I know you're not sorry. You can't be sorry, especially over something so close to you."

"Be that as it may," Christophe sighed, sounding put out. Oh, was he tired of this? Well so was she! She didn't need all this stress and really, she was trying to move on and get over it. Having Christophe shove it back into her face wasn't helping, not one bit. "Please, believe me, ze last zing I ever wanted to do was 'urt you. It may not seem like et now, but I swear on that piece of sheet you call God, I never wanted to hurt you."

She blinked at the forcefulness of those last words. His accent had gone away for just a bit so that those last six words were unmarred and there would be no mistaking them for something else. She was tempted into believing them. No, not tempted, she _wanted_ to believe them, she wanted to believe them so bad. She had been burned by those words one too many times to fully trust in their sincerity, however.

"I guess zis is where we part ways," Christophe continued helplessly. "I…I just want you to know that even zough et's bad, I will not stop protecting you. If ever Bain regains 'is memories, 'e will come for you but I will not let 'im 'arm you. Zat, at least, you can trust me to do.

"I 'ope you find 'appiness Rhiannon. I really do."

He was gone now, slinking out through the restroom door, leaving her all alone. Now that the reason for her to be defiant had left, she found herself sinking to her knees as a sob escaped her throat. More than ever, she wanted to take back what she had said but as always it was too late.

It…it looked like this was the end for them. Admittedly, there had been a small hope that they would get past all this but she needed some time to get used to it.

Looks like time was up…

…and she still wasn't used to it.

* * *

Bain rotated the handle of the outdated piece of equipment, drilling into the pipe slowly. It was awkward to say the least and his arms were tired at this point yet he continued doggedly, refusing to stop until his task was completed. He would have preferred using a power drill but he couldn't find where his father had last put it and, second, he couldn't see a place to plug it in.

It was frustrating at times when the hand-powered drill would slip off from where he had it pressed against the pipe but he knew he had no other choice but to grin and bear it for a little while longer until he was able to penetrate—

The resistance of the pipe gave way and he had to jerk his movements to a stop. He did nothing for a minute, letting his body rest a bit, only lifting an arm up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He then fiddled with the drill until he managed to pull it out of the pipe without concern for any liquid that could be inside of it. He knew full well there would be nothing but air in there until a mechanism was activated and until then the pipe would remain empty.

Placing the drill on the ground beside him, he turned towards one of the jugs he had brought with him and selected one at random. He unsealed the jug and then covered the opening with butcher paper he had come across in the art room, stretching the paper tightly but not enough for it to rip just yet and wrapping a rubber band around the jug's neck. With the tip of his switchblade, he scraped the butcher paper, poking small, indiscernible holes that weren't big enough to allow the polypropylene to leak out yet with the right pressure it would tear open easily.

Once that was done, he turned back to the pipe he had drilled into, eyeing the hole critically to make sure that the neck of the jug would be able to fit into it just right. His brow creased as his mental calculations revealed that the hole was not big enough. Well, that wouldn't be a problem.

He picked up a hammer and slowly inserted claw end of the hammer into the hole. Patiently, he applied pressure, widening the hole slowly and carefully. The minutes dragged on and eventually, he widened the hole to his satisfaction. Setting the hammer aside, he leaned the polypropylene jug over and inserted the neck of the jug into the hole.

Holding the jug with one arm, he picked the hammer back up and began to press on the edges of the hole, slowly closing it back up. When he could do nothing further, he tossed the hammer away and with a foot dragged a long string of wire over. He wrapped it around the jug and pipe, making sure that it was tight before snipping it and then finishing the job with some duct tape. He paid particular attention to where the jug entered the pipe, wrapping an excess of tape around it so as to try and circumvent possible leaks once it was time to enact his plan.

Pulling away and nodding at his work, he moved his tools further down the pipe to an unmarred section, dragging another jug along with him. In his wake, five other jugs could be seen similarly inserted into other pipes or the same one.

* * *

Huh, nobody was home.

Gary pulled away from one of the windows that made up the Cynis residence, his efforts to peer in through the curtains not successful. Looking at the place, there was something different about it, like there was something missing from it that had been there all along but now that it was gone he noticed it. Was it the cars? He counted at least two were gone, that pink one that had been parked in the driveway and the one he guessed to belong to Bain's father.

Maybe the family went out as a whole to some place to have fun? One of the amusement parks? Well, far be it from him to interrupt important family time. He'd call the house later tonight and see if anybody was home then.

"What now?" Kyra asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders, also clueless. "Don't know. I don't think anyone's here so I guess we'll go back to my house."

"Yeah…" Kyra said slowly, scratching the back of her head. "I think I'll head to my house. My parents must be wondering where I am."

Hmm, she had a point. For nearly twenty-four hours they had been in each other's company nonstop, working hard on trying to do something about Principal Estrada's abuse of Bain. He still hadn't gotten in touch with Chris Hanson or his show yet but he was keeping his fingers crossed that he'd get in later tonight, tomorrow if the rest of today went fruitless.

The reason why they were at Bain's house was because he wanted to check up on him and see how he was doing. He hadn't seen the poor boy since he had run out of detention like he had the hounds of hell on his heels. Even after Kyra had looked for him, he still hadn't been found.

He was really getting worried at this point. Where was Bain? Was he all right? Was he hurt? There were so many questions buzzing around inside his head and he hated to be left out of the loop, especially if it involved a parent, sibling, or friend.

At this point in time, he was considering the amnesiac teen a friend.

"You think Charlie might know where he is?" he asked suddenly, the idea coming to him out of nowhere.

"Wouldn't she have told us earlier?" Kyra asked back. "I don't think she would know."

"But it's been hours since we last saw her," he pointed out. "Anything could have happened between then and now."

"You can go ask her," Kyra told him. "I gotta be going home. Tell me how it turns out."

"Be careful!" he called after her as he watched her jog off hurriedly. His family was busy using the station wagon so he had walked to Bain's house instead of driving. Strange how the Cynises didn't really live with the rest of families in South Park. Most of the old people who weren't in nursing homes and the occasional NAMBLA member and Klansman lived in these parts from what he noticed. Not a good place to raise children.

He headed in the same direction as Kyra though at a slower pace. The residential districts of the town were grouped close together so it wasn't a chore to walk from one to the other. However, he thought he had spied someone watching him from a window and he was wary about it because he could have sworn he saw a Klansman hood.

Mormons did not get along with the Ku Klux Klan, thank you very much.

He crossed the street and turned at a corner, picking up his pace substantially. He passed by a bus stop and it was only at this point that he slowed down again. Now, which one was Charlie's house?

* * *

Bain trudged down the empty halls of South Park High, his stolen axe balanced on a shoulder and his tools carried under the other arm. It had taken time but he was done with the rigging. Unfortunately, something had come up that had him stumped.

Even if he did set off his little scheme, it would require low temperatures as demonstrated to him at the Mephisto labs. What was he going to do about that? Destroy the school's heater? The outside temperatures were rising so the inside temperature wouldn't be near where he needed it. Not only that but he had discovered that the one thing that the builders did right when building this place was that there were a lot of easily accessible exits.

The bastard would have the opportunity to escape before becoming life-size, human-flavored popsicles.

He came to a stop as a thought struck him.

"_Naoh, I was thinking of doing something big Monday but I'm going to need a lot of duct tape and an audience."_

"_Assembly in zhe gym. Done."_

That's right, Cartman's aborted plan required an audience and knowing that wetback asshole, he'd want a large one to witness his humiliation. The gym could hold practically everyone in the building and if all the exits were sealed off…

No escape.

He still had a day to finish up so getting his hands on some thick chains and industrial locks shouldn't be too much of a problem. Before leaving, he stopped by the gym and turned the A/C on, setting it close to forty-five degrees.

No sense not prepping his trap.

* * *

Okay, twice in one day? Charlie was not amused.

"No, I don't know where the hell he is," she grunted at Gary. Yes she was awake by now but the last thing she wanted to do was talk to Gary about Bain. Though, she was starting to wonder where Bain was as well, she managed to hide her worry easily.

"He's not at home," Gary listed, scratching the back of his head while looking down at his feet, his face creased with worry. "There may be a chance he's out with his family."

"He's never been out with his family," she blurted out. "I've never seen parents so disconnected with their son before. His mother acts like Cartman's mom and his father is invisible half the time. I don't think they're aware of what's going on at school."

Okay, maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. She felt annoyed at how even more concerned Gary looked. Why couldn't he get the clue that she did not want to share? Wait, share? Share what? Bain?

"I have a bad feeling about this," Gary said, his crystal clear blue eyes focusing straight on her brown ones. "I can't find him, I can't contact him, and I have no idea of where he might be."

"Maybe you ought to take a break," she suggested. "If there's one thing Bain's good at, it's popping up at the times you either least expect it or when you don't want him." Okay, she was trying to be helpful now? Why couldn't she stick with one frame of mind? Damn it, Bain was always doing this to her, amnesia or not.

Now she wanted to look for him.

"I rather not wait," Gary told her. "I just have this bad feeling."

Okay, she was beginning to figure out why he annoyed her so. He was so overzealous in everything he did and didn't know when to just sit down and let things happen at their own pace. When he invested in something, he put in everything. Admirable in some cases but ill-advised in others.

She had found out that whenever Bain was involved, it was best not to get to close to the issue. If only she could follow her own advice…

"Odds are nothing bad is happening other than his sister driving him crazy," she replied. "He once told me he didn't like her but he didn't say why."

"He has a sister?" Gary asked. "I didn't know that."

"There's a lot we don't know about him," Charlie rolled her eyes. "By the way, how's that Chris Hanson thing going along?"

"Haven't been able to talk to anybody yet," Gary admitted, "but I'm sure a little more time and effort and we'll have this ball rolling!"

"Why don't you go home and work on that then?" she suggested. "Let me worry about Bain. If something comes up…I'll be sure to tell you about it."

"Really? Thanks Charlie!" Gary exclaimed, wrapping her into a tight hug. Charlie grunted, begrudgingly patting the blond's back and wondering how much longer she was going to have to deal with him. "As soon as I get home, I do whatever it takes to get in with him! You can count on it!"

With that he was jogging away as if he had been energized by the Goddamn Energizer Bunny. She wondered where he got his energy.

Well, at least he hadn't asked her to have dinner at his house…

* * *

Once he had dropped Terrance Mephisto back at his father's lab (i.e. dumped him there still bound), Bain had driven back into town heading for downtown where the stores were.

He was just going to do a little window shopping and see where he would need to go and how much he needed to carry on him. His parents shouldn't be back in town by now, especially since they were going to Colorado Springs and he was counting on Sierra to try and monopolize their time.

He had a good two or three hours before he needed to be getting back and enacting the act that that DJ girl had been accusing him of. He was going to have to do it for the next couple of days and wait until after his revenge had been enacted before revealing his deception. Hopefully he didn't have any appointments with that quack Raizen in the meantime.

He strolled down the sidewalk, glancing into store windows, trying to identify where he could find some chains and locks. There were still some parts of his memory that he hadn't fully regained, such as the location of the accursed hardware store. It was just little things really; the important ones were easy to recall and that was what mattered to him. A little time and he'd have 99.9% of his memories back but until then he was not in any rush to remember everything.

What would be the point now?

He froze in his tracks, eyes widening suddenly as he spotted Charlotte's little sister, what's her name. His anxiety increased further as he saw she was with her mother and the two had just spotted him. Calm down, you can do this Bain, he told himself. He was just going to have to act, that's all.

He had never really had confidence in his lackluster acting skills so there was no pressure, right?

"Bain!" the little girl called her, trying to squirm her hand out of her mother's iron tight grip. Succeeding, she ignored her mother's calls to not go too far as dashed over to him, her eyes bright with childish glee. "I missed you! Why haven't you been coming?"

He kept his eyes open with effort and hid his hands behind his back. Whether he knew it or not, it added to the guilt look he was projecting. "Oh…erm…hi," he muttered, slightly wincing at the dark tone in his voice. He needed to sound innocent, damn it! "Uh…"

"Did you forget about me?" Charlotte's sister asked.

Had the circumstances been any different, he would have said yes. If only he had had control over himself during his amnesia period.

"I remember you," he said quickly. "I just…I'm having trouble remembering my name. Yeah, that's right…"

"Silly Bain," Charlotte's sister giggled. "You're Bain!"

"And you are…?" he prompted.

"Tammy!" she answered.

Yes, that was right. Her name was Tammy. He was going to have to remember that for now but hopefully not for long. "Sorry," he said, trying to sound sheepish. "My parents…wanted me home for a bit."

"Dumb parents," Tammy pouted. Then smiling brightly at him, she said, "Can you come home with me today?"

"I can't," he answered. "I'm walking around, you know, trying to see if I remember anything." Damn it, this was harder than he thought…

"I don't see why you can't walk around with us," Charlotte's mother spoke from behind the girl. "I'm just taking care of a few errands and only have a couple more places to go. How about you join us? I'll buy you an ice cream."

Hmm, willingly spend time with a couple of females that he would normally fantasize about mutilating? He could see features that made them each resemble Charlotte in their own way yet at the same time make them look completely different. He didn't know if he had the discipline necessary to keep up his act for that long…

"Freud's ghost, what the hell do you think you two are doing?" a voice shouted at them.

Bain closed his eyes, resisting the urge to rub his forehead. Oh no, anybody but…

"Keep all your valuables away from him before he shoves them up your ass!" Dr. Raizen howled as he came to a stop in front of them, standing in the middle of the street. Pulling out a cross, he held it up like he was trying to ward off some unholy demon. "Quickly! Run for your lives!"

"Uh…who are you?" Charlotte's mother asked dumbly, eyes blinking owlishly.

"Do not be afraid, I am a psychiatrist!" Raizen said commandingly. "I am here to save you!"

"Mommy? Why's that man shouting at us?" Tammy asked, reaching a hand out and grabbing Bain's hand. Bain tensed up, not used to being touched so intimately.

"I don't know but we're leaving," Charlotte's mother said as she took Tammy's other hand. "Come with us Bain. This man is obviously deranged."

"I'm not deranged!" Raizen shouted at her. "You're discriminating against me because I have an Oedipus Complex aren't you? I mean, yeah, you're not bad on the eyes but really!"

"Faster…" Charlotte's mother said softly, putting herself between Tammy and Bain and Raizen. "This man is not right in the head…"

"I'm trying to save you from that maniac!" Raizen continued to shout. "Do you know what that nutcase did to me? He shov—"

Before he could finish what he was saying, an eighteen-wheeler slammed into him, embedding his body into the grill of the truck's front. The driver, not noticing or not caring, continued to drive off as if nothing had happened.

Well that was one way to get rid of the man.

"Mommy? What happened?" Tammy asked.

"Um, he had to catch a truck," her mother made up quickly. "He's all right. Forget about him. Now who's up for ice cream?"

"I am!" Tammy cheered.

Bain watched all this and shook his head. Looks like his family wasn't one of the most dysfunctional anymore.

* * *

When Tammy and her mother came home that evening, Charlie was surprised that they had dragged along a certain trenchcoat wearing amnesiac. She didn't need to get up off the couch to see that her little sister was becoming more and more enamored with Bain by the second.

She was really going to have to do something about that.

"Look who we found wandering around town," her mother called out to her. "Think you can keep an eye on him for a bit? Thanks." And there she went without waiting for her to give an answer. Great.

Then again…

"Hey Tam-Tam?" she called out to her little sister. "Can you come over here for a sec? I want to talk to you about something."

"Can Bain listen?" Tammy asked, looking slightly peeved that she had dared to use that nickname in front of the boy of her dreams.

She noticed that Bain's lips quirked up a bit and she narrowed her eyes at that. That wasn't a response she had noticed coming from him recently. "It's kinda private," she responded. "Come over here."

"Okay," Tammy pouted but detached herself from Bain's side.

Making sure that Bain was staying put on the other side of the room, she turned to her pouting sister who was looking at her accusingly. Okay, this was going to be tough; she was never good with inciting heartfelt conversations, even if she did have good intentions. The fact that she felt Bain's gaze on her…it was unnerving her.

Strange, she hadn't felt his gaze in a long time…

"I'm worried," she told Tammy frankly, going for the direct approach. Since when had the direct approach ever failed her before? "Don't…don't you think he's a bit old for you?" she finally bit off. Okay, this was a bit harder than she thought it would be.

"He's not old," Tammy pouted back at her.

"He's more than ten years older than you," she said dryly.

"He's older than you!" Tammy countered.

"That's not the point!" she argued. Though, she had to admit that Tammy was right on that account; Bain was older than her by a few good months. "I'm closer in age to him than you are!" Great, now she was using kindergarten logic. "And anyway, he's going to be a senior in high school! He'll be going to college or something and you're just starting to go to school. Don't you think you should be friends with people your age?"

"But they're dumb!" Tammy whined. "Bain's fun!"

Charlie looked back up at Bain who was still in the same spot as before but he was looking at the room with interest. Why should he have that look when he had been here before?

"How well do you know him?" she suddenly asked. Why hadn't she asked this question a long time ago?

"I know everything!" Tammy boasted, puffing her chest out proudly.

"Do you know where he lives?" she asked, successfully keeping her lips from upturning.

"Huh? Why?" Tammy asked, blinking wide eyes at her.

"Do you know who his parents are?" Charlie continued casually. "Do you know that he has a sister? What books he likes to read? What he does when he's not here?"

"He plays with me!" Tammy defended stubbornly. Charlie noticed that it had taken her a bit to come up with that one. Maybe she was getting somewhere.

"Has he done anything else with you?" she continued mercilessly. "Has he ever come here and asked to see you? Do you know if he likes playing with you?"

"He does!" Tammy protested though you could see there was a twinge of doubt there. The little girl turned to where Bain was and asked loudly to him, "You like playing with me, right?"

Bain looked back to her, looking slightly confused as to where this question was coming from but seeing that an answer was expected of him, he said quickly, "Yes, I do like it."

"See!" Tammy said, looking at Charlie challengingly as if she had all the answers she needed. Charlie, though, was a bit more absorbed with Bain's answer than she was with her sister trying to prove a point. The way he had talked, it sounded like he was distracted. Bain was nothing but attentive since he had woken up in the hospital. She could tell, there was something up here but first she needed to take care of Tammy. This was something that she couldn't stall on any longer.

"Tammy, you know that the only thing I want is for you to be happy," she told Tammy. "I just don't think that Bain is the one that can make you happy. You have your whole life ahead of you; don't limit yourself now, please."

Tammy frowned at her. "You…you're just jealous!" she accused.

"I'm not jealous!" she shot back, though even she was beginning to wonder if that wasn't a lie. The fact that she had seen more people hanging around with Bain made her blood boil in ways she hadn't experienced before. Maybe she was jealous, possessive even of him, but right now she would have to put that aside for the good of her sister, even if she ended up making her mad at her.

Sacrifices had to be made.

"Tammy, listen to me," she said, her voice hardening slightly. "You can't be with Bain. You're too young and he's too old." Not to mention that he has no memories of his past and if he did he would be a manipulative sociopath with a fetish for cutting people up into pieces. "He'll never be the right person for you and you'll never be the right person for him. Please trust me on this, whatever relationship you think you have with him, you don't. It's a fantasy that will not come true. You have to let it go before you really get hurt."

"You're mean!" Tammy spat at her, the signs of tears starting to well up in the corners of her eyes. "You're just jealous and mean! I hate you!"

It hurt to watch as her sister ran out of the room and up to her room on the second floor but she knew that this needed to be done. The sooner she broke this thing up, the better Tammy would have a chance to rebound from it.

"That wasn't very nice of you," she heard a masculine voice say quietly from behind her. Charlie didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.

"It's for her own good," she sighed. "If you remembered anything, you know that I'm right."

"Maybe," Bain said to her, Charlie only now noticing that there wasn't any uncertainty in that velvety voice of his. She was beginning to have a bad feeling about it. "But then again, wouldn't you know Charlotte?"

She felt a chill go up her spine even as Bain pulled away from her. Charlotte. He had called her Charlotte just now. Ever since he had been diagnosed with amnesia, he had always called her Charlie, never Charlotte. And what had her mother said? They found him wandering around town? Bain hardly went out of his house alone; why would he be out of it now?

She twisted on the couch and stared at Bain's back, said teen on his way to the front door. As if feeling her gaze, Bain tilted his head around just enough to glance at her with his single green eye. She watched as his lip curved up and that green eye wink at her before his head turned away and he continued on his way out.

All the while, Charlie remained in her seat, comprehension dawning on her. Bain, the old Bain, was back.

And if she knew him as well as she did, then she knew hell was about to break loose.


	17. Coldblooded

Author's Note: Yep, this is it, the longest chapter I have ever written and the last one for this story. It's been a ride but I want to get off and go onto something else, which is why this makes _Stanger in those Homicidal Eyes_ my shortest story chapter-wise. There's a note at the end I recommend you pay attention to but other than that, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, death, Chuck Norris

Cold-blooded

Monday couldn't come fast enough.

Sunday was nothing but finalizing a few things, tweaking others, and pretending to not remember anything so as to not bring any suspicion. Charlotte was a freebie; she always provided him with the challenge he found himself craving. He was sure that she was either following him yesterday or doing something else to try and figure out what he was doing.

He did nothing to hinder her. If she was determined to stop him, let her try. He was ready for anything she might try to throw at him.

He got up early this morning so as to double check the items he had packed in his backpack the day before. He wanted to be sure that he had everything and was prepared for any contingencies that might come up. Zipping the pack up and slipping his arms through the straps, he stopped only long enough to pick up Winslow, admiring the blade for a moment before tucking it away on his person.

It was time.

He was skipping breakfast this morning. In was imperative that he got to the school before anyone else did. He had already fixed the circuit box to the best of his abilities but he had made sure to turn off the security cameras so he could sneak in without being recorded. He was filled with anticipation; vengeance would be his and all would know not to fuck with him again.

As he exited his house, he found himself freezing up as a car came to a stop in front. Was this a visitor for his parents? Damn it, it had to happen now of all times?

"Bain!" Gary's cheery voice called out from the car, a window having been rolled down to allow his voice to be audible. "What are you doing up so early?"

He quickly and subtly glanced to the side, making sure there was no one around watching them before making his way to the car as fast as he could. Time to do the act again. Hopefully he would be able to fool Gary.

He heard the sound of the carlock clicking, telling him that Gary had unlocked the doors thus he was able to open the passenger side door and slip in fairly quickly. He kept his breathing as even as possible while keeping his eyes wide open like he was trying to pay attention to everything at once.

"I haven't heard about you since Friday!" Gary greeted him as he rolled the window up. "I was worried about you. How are you feeling? Are you doing better?"

Ah yes, was he feeling better after Estrada's psychological attack? Oh yes he was and he was burning for some payback.

"I'm fine," he said stiffly, staring ahead. "I want to go to the library…at the school."

"Why the library?" Gary asked him curiously as he put the car into drive and pressed gently on the accelerator pedal.

"I want to see it," he said as softly as he could, trying to keep the scratchiness out of his voice. "I just don't want to be home right now…but I don't want to be where other people can see me." Okay, there was a grain of truth there. Would Gary take his bait?

"Okay, sure," the blond said. "You mind if I make one more stop? I want to go pick up Kyra."

"I'm not really…comfortable…" he said, purposely trying to sound unsure. It was taking an effort to do this and he was going to be so relieved when he didn't have to sound like a spineless pussy anymore.

"Alright, alright," Gary said in response. "Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

He fought against the urge to smile; this was going better than he had imagined. He hugged his backpack closer to him, making sure the side the zipper was on faced away from the blond so that he could unobtrusively open it up.

His chauffeur deserved a reward for being so accommodating. In fact, he would spare him from the fate of everyone else.

"You know, I spent this weekend trying to call up _Dateline_ and get a hold of Chris Hansen," Gary spoke up unexpectedly, stilling Bain's hidden movements.

"What?" he asked. What was this?

"I didn't like what the principal did to you," Gary told him, his hands visibly tightening on the steering wheel. "Nor did I like the other things he said afterwards. I wanted to bring this to national attention so that something would be done and it wouldn't be swept under the rug. If everybody's paying attention then you have no excuse to leave things the way they are, right?"

Wow. If he had a heart, he'd be touched.

"So I spent all weekend calling _Dateline_ up," Gary continued. "I kept getting put on hold or told to call back later or wait to be called back and have no one do so. I tried to call up Chris Hansen himself but do you know what kind of security he has? Apparently some pedophiles have been trying to kill him for that _To Catch a Predator_ segment he did a while back. You don't hear about it because he likes to keep it on the down low."

Bain nodded slowly, snaking his hand into his backpack unnoticed. Within the pack, he searched for a particular object, slowly feeling out each item that his hand came into contact with. He knew he had it in there somewhere…

"I'm not giving up yet," Gary added. "Principal Estrada needs to learn that not even he is above the law, even if he is here in this country illegally."

His sentiments exactly.

"I mean think about it. What will people think about the school when they find out that the students and staff are bullying a kid with amnesia?" Gary asked rhetorically. "Crap is going to hit the fan, let me tell you. There's going to be so much publicity that I think the state is going to get involved. We're going to get things done around here, make this town a better place."

Now, he wouldn't go that far. It wasn't easy fighting against a status quo and besides, he had his own ideas on how they were going to proceed. Unfortunately for Gary, he was nowhere in those plans.

Ah, there it was. He pulled the object out of the pack just enough so that he could glance at it and confirm that it was what he was looking for. ID confirmed, he had it. Taking the object out, he tucked it against his leg and dived his hand back into the backpack. He just needed one more thing…

"What do you think?" Gary asked. "You think we're doing the right thing here?"

He shrugged noncommittally; he really had no answer and didn't care about if the guy was doing the right thing or not.

"That's right, you don't have the same background that I do," Gary mused aloud. "I've been in the town since the fourth grade and you only remember from a couple weeks ago. Heh, maybe I'll tell you about what I've experienced in this town one day. Trust me, you're going to be amazed."

You don't need to tell him twice. He knew all about it too.

From his backpack, he tugged out a piece of cloth, putting some effort into pulling it out as it kept snagging against the zipper. Once he had the whole thing out, he moved his hand, cloth and all, to the object he had taken out only a minute before and began to unscrew the top. Setting the top aside, he pressed the cloth against the opening turned the object upside down, allowing the liquid within to be absorbed into the cloth.

By now, Gary was pulling into the school's student parking lot and Bain was pleased at the lack of cars here and in the faculty parking. Good, this made things simpler.

"Huh, I guess we're here too early," Gary commented as he put the car into park. "Maybe we should wait a bit; I don't think the doors are open yet."

Little did he know that that wasn't a problem for him.

"Um, Gary?" he asked.

"Yes?" the blond responded automatically, looking at him kindly.

Yes, he was so glad he didn't have a heart; he wasn't going to feel a lot of guilt about this.

"Does this smell like chloroform to you?" he asked innocently. With that, he pulled the cloth out into sight and pressed it right into Gary's face. He was so glad he hadn't put his seatbelt on for this as it allowed him to lean his weight behind him arm as he pressed the wet cloth harder onto the blond's face. Gary pushed at him, struggling against him but Bain had gotten the jump on him too quickly.

The blond's struggles slowed until he fell still. Bain kept the cloth pressed against Gary's face for a moment before taking it off and checking for a pulse. Good, he was still alive. He got out of the car and went over to the driver's side. Pushing Gary over into the passenger's seat, he got into the driver's seat and proceeding to move the car, not wanting anyone to become curious about it.

It wouldn't do for something as small as this to undo everything.

* * *

Principal Estrada was excited as he approached the high school, impatient to learn what Eric Cartman was going to unveil today. It would definitely liven his spirits after the incident in which a student was found beaten up in his school. By the time he had gotten back, the student had been shipped off to the hospital and he hadn't been able to learn the name of the student.

He hadn't made the effort to find out either. He had to spend his weekend with a headache while trying to locate paperwork that would prevent the school from being sued by an overzealous parent.

He was fairly confident that he would be able to take whatever was thrown at him, however, right now his concern was to get to the school as early as a lazy Mexican like him could. He wanted to see when Eric Cartman had traipsed throughout the school if he was recorded by the cameras. If so, then he would get rid of the incriminating evidence and keep up his end of his bargain with the fat bastard.

He was a man of his word…well, more than likely he would remove the filmed evidence and hide it away to use as blackmail if an occasion should occur when he would need it.

The students needed to learn how to be corrupt so they could take advantage of all the social programming in this country; some of them might become politicians and if he was able to teach them how to cover their tracks, then he would have made his contribution to American society.

It was fortunate that he had the school's security system connected to his office. He could do whatever he wanted with any footage recorded as well as watch the girls changing in the girls' locker room. Those kinds of perks balanced out the fact that he was paid less than a janitor in this shitty school.

He powerwalked through the hallways after letting himself in, ignoring the calls from any early riser who wanted to get inside and do a little studying. Studying was a worthless activity, he thought, and they would thank him later for forcing them out of studying habits, saving them time that could better be spent doing stupid shit that would be posted on the internet.

With his spare key in hand, he unlocked the doors to the main office and slipped in, hurrying to his office. He stopped only long enough to open that door and once he was in, he kicked the door closed behind him, his sight firmly fixed on his desk. Sitting down in his chair, he turned his computer on and waited for the monitor to light up…and waited some more…and waited a little bit more…

Why wasn't his computer turning on?

He tapped sharply on the keyboard, frowning when there was no response from his computer. He glared irritably at the black screen and mumbled curses in Spanish to himself as he began rolling up his sleeves, readying himself for a smackdown with the malfunctioning piece of equipment.

"Computer trouble?"

"_Si_," he answered absentmindedly as he cracked his knuckles. It took him a moment to realize that he had just answered a question that he hadn't asked.

He snapped his head up and found himself being watch by the Cynis boy who was smirking at him indulgently. He felt his face slacken in surprise and he began to wonder how in the hell this bastard had gotten into his office. He was sure he had closed it behind him…

"What are you doeeng here?" he demanded.

Bain Cynis chuckled at him and swept closer to him, his eyes twinkling with malice. Wait, he seemed different…not like the way he had on Friday. The questions in his head stopped as Bain revealed a fire axe, a part of Estrada recalling that an axe was reported missing by the police. Yet what this meant was beyond him.

"Eric Cartman won't be present today," the boy drawled at him. "He's experiencing a medical crisis at the hospital. It's just you and me now."

"_Senor_ Cynis," he said nervously. "Why are you holdeeng an axe?"

"To keep you from doing anything I don't want you to do," Bain quipped back. "You see, you're going to be doing a few things for me and if you refuse…well, we'll play a little game of axe murderer and you'll get to play the victim. Do we understand each other?"

"_Si_, we do," Principal Estrada agreed readily. There was no way in hell he was going to risk his precious skin for anything.

* * *

As Charlie entered the kitchen that morning, she immediately picked up on the grouchiness that was being projected her way. She could see Tammy looking at her darkly, scrunched up in her seat and probably still sulky over Saturday. Yesterday had not been fun, especially since Stella had done a Houdini act and her mother left her to babysit Tammy, preventing her from going out to find out what Bain was up to. Tammy hadn't been on her best behavior and it had been quite the chore keeping up with her.

She was still holding a grudge against her and Charlie knew that there was only one person she could blame for this. That person was Bain but she couldn't bad mouth him when her demon of a little sister had something soft and edible close at hand. She was still dead set on seeing Bain as some paragon of virtue. If Tammy only knew the asshole like she did.

"Charlie? Do you know what's going on with your sister?" her mother asked, sounded frazzled.

Charlie was tempted to say Tammy was on her period but she knew the little girl was too young to experience one at this point in time. Besides, it wouldn't put her in her mother's good book for making a joke out of something like that.

So she gave the default answer: shrug her shoulders and say I don't know.

"That's just perfect," her mother groaned. "Just freaking perfect…"

Looks like someone else got out on the wrong side of the bed.

Charlie pulled out a chair and slumped into it, glancing over at Tammy who was still glowering at her. She kept up eye contact with her sister, staring dully at Tammy who continued to stare defiantly back at her.

Finally, she deadpanned, "Still pissed off at me?"

"Language," her mother warned.

Charlie rolled her eyes at that. Like her mother ever watched her words when she was having a bout of writer's block. Still, she revised herself, saying, "Still mad at me?"

Tammy didn't bother to nod her head or give any other kind of answer. Charlie took that as a definite yes.

Sighing, she said, "Be that way if you want. I just don't care anymore." Turning her head in the direction that her mother was in, she called out, "I'm going early!"

"But you haven't eaten anything!" her mother yelled back.

"I'll mooch off someone!" she retorted as she got out of her seat, heading out of the kitchen and towards the front door. On her way, she came across Stella who was giving her a bland look.

"Did you have to talk so loud?" Stella asked.

"I'm really not in the mood for any wit," Charlie grumbled. "I'll see you later."

* * *

As the bell for first period rang, screaming out to all the students in the building that it was time to get their asses to class, Stan found himself Kyle-less and searching for Kenny to see if he knew anything.

"Huh. I thought he was hanging out with you," Kenny shrugged. "Are you missing your boyfriend?"

"Shut up Kenny," he grumbled. "I haven't seen Kyle all weekend. He hasn't called me or anything and he didn't return any of my calls. I'm getting worried."

"Homo alert!" Kenny sang.

"Knock it off, dick," Stan scowled at the blond. "I'm being serious here!"

"So am I."

"You are such an asshole Kenny, I swear," Stan growled as he rubbed his eyes, frustrated.

Where the hell was Kyle? He was scaring him how he hadn't heard from his best friend in so long. He had spent most of last night awake, entertaining thoughts of Kyle being tortured or raped or both. Suffice to say, he hadn't gotten much sleep. He suspected that maybe whoever it was that Kyle was talking to on the computer may have something to do with his best friend's disappearance even though he had called Kyle's house and had been told by his mother that Kyle was at a friend's house.

She sounded just as surprised as him when she found out that he, Stan, wasn't the friend that she had been told Kyle was spending the night with.

This was so fucking annoying! Why weren't people talking with him? And if they were talking with him, why weren't they being more clear with what they were saying? Kenny wasn't helping either with his own blunt words and he was becoming more and more pissed off while at the same time becoming more concerned.

He sensed that another wacky adventure was on its way and he groaned pathetically at the thought. Why, oh why, couldn't he live a normal life where weird ass shit didn't happen every single day?

Oh wait, what was he asking? He was asking for something reasonable in one of the most absurd places on Earth. He was being so irrational, wasn't he?

The bell rang again, this time stating that first period was officially starting and if you weren't in class, then it sucked to be you. Well, it sucked to be Stan Marsh since he was best-friendless and he was stuck without anyone rational to talk to.

The intercom beeped and instead of the usual morning announcements reader speaking, they had a treat today. It was the principal with his Hispanic accent speaking.

_Good morneeng students, faculty. Zhees ees Principal Estrada informeeng you to all head to zhe gym for an important assembly. Please use zhe gym entrance in zhe 400s hallway as zhe other doors are faceeng operational malfunctions. Go in an orderly fashion please and don't push!_

Christ, a Monday morning assembly? He was just springing this shit on them wasn't he? No heads up, no nothing. Just pack up your shit and do what you're told, that was their principal.

_Also, would Kyra McCloud please come to zhe front office? Thank you._

* * *

Bain watched Principal Estrada critically as the man sat back in his chair, turning off his connection to the intercom system. The man was proving to be very cooperative much to his surprise but he really shouldn't have expected more from the bottom feeder.

"Not a trace of hesitation there," he commented casually as he stalked around the desk and Estrada himself, coming to a stop behind him. "No inflections, just the facts. You could be damning them to Hell but you would still sound like everything was just peachy."

"I deed what you wanted," Principal Estrada said gruffly. "Zhey're all headeeng for zhe gym and zhat one girl ees headeeng here. But why are you calleeng for _Senorita_ McCloud?"

"Let's just say I don't like owing people debts," Bain replied easily. "She gets a heads up but if she doesn't heed it, well, you can't say I didn't try."

"What? You have a heart now?" Principal Estrada scoffed.

Ignoring him, Bain instead asked, "You know, this has been bothering me for quite some time. Why? Why have you allowed all this abuse that has been directed towards me to occur? As an educator, it should be your job to _protect_ your students, all of them. Yet you did no such thing."

"You reelly want me to answer zhat?" Estrada deadpanned. "You of all people know zhe number of headaches you've geeveen me over zhe past _tres_ years. You've endangered zhe students more zhan I can count, carry _cuchillos_ on you and throweeng zhem all over zhe place and you've not yet been suspended or expelled?"

"And why didn't you expel me?" Bain asked curiously before stopping and pressing a hand to his face. "It was my slut of a mother, wasn't it?"

"_Si_."

"So what? This has all been some revenge scheme of yours?" Bain demanded. "You wanted to pay me back for all the headaches I've given you, is that it?"

"_Si_, _Senor_ ess smart, ees he not?" Estrada retorted bitterly.

"Pathetic," Bain snorted. "You bowed down to fleshly temptation and then try to absolve yourself by harassing an amnesiac. That's so big of you, you make me want to become a macho man just like you."

"Your sarcasm, eet ees so loud," Estrada rolled his eyes.

Grabbing the principal by his forehead, he pulled Estrada's head up and stabbed Winslow into the man's neck, the blade cutting through the jugular vein. Principal Estrada's eyes widened in shock, his face slowly beginning to pale.

In a soft, growling voice, Bain said, "All actions have consequences, Estrada. Even yours no matter how untouchable you think you are. You are of no further use to me but I'm not about to let you escape without some kind of wound. And don't think you're the first person I've killed either. You're nothing but a statistic now. Congratulations, you're a legal part of America now."

Pushing the blade deeper for spite, Bain pulled Winslow out, wiping the knife against the rapidly paling man who was starting to gurgle in his throat. Putting Winslow away, he snorted contemptuously at Estrada before snagging a piece of paper and writing a quick note onto it.

Let it not be said that he didn't try.

* * *

Kyra was nervous, squirming in her seat to find some kind of comfortable position while she waited for the principal to call her in for whatever he wanted her for. She had never been called up to the office before and already she had mentally gone over everything in her head to see if she had done anything wrong that might require her to be here.

At this rate, she was going to miss part of the assembly and she hated walking into something after it had already started. All those eyes that would be on her, accusing her for daring to be late. She bet she was breaking out in hives or something, she was that anxious.

Nearby, she heard a door open and close and she assumed it was one of the office workers, a secretary perhaps. She had never been to the principal's office before but she knew it was located in the main office but not specifically where in the office. All she could see was the front desk and a stern looking woman filling out some kind of form or receipt.

Someone passed by her and it was at the moment that something fell into her lap. She blinked at the folded piece of paper and picked it up, wondering what it was. She looked towards the main office's entrance where she saw the last of a black piece of cloth vanishing around the corner. Weird.

Turning her attention back to the piece of paper, she opened it up and read the few scrawled out words.

_Urgent._

_Leave the building now._

What the hell was this shit? This sounded like a prank or some cheap attempt to get her in trouble. Plus, from what she had seen last week, she wouldn't put it past the principal to try and run her out of school.

Glancing at the secretary and calculating the distance between her and the door like she needed to get around Bowser from _Super Mario Bros._, she made a guess that she would be able to make it without being stopped and tag along at the tail end of the other kids entering the gym. She was not going to be late after all! Sure, Principal Estrada might be expecting her and while she was as straight-laced as you could get, she figured this act of defiance couldn't hurt.

Tightening her grip on her backpack, she eyed the secretary until she was sure she wasn't looking and then moving as swiftly as she could out of the office. And she made it! Utter pwnage!

"Are you Kyra McCloud?"

She froze up, her celebratory mood drenched. Crap, she was caught wasn't she? Slowly, she turned around to where she heard the voice and found herself staring at a tall man in denim with the most rugged red beard she had ever since and eyes so cold and hardened that she could swear she saw the cosmos in them.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"I hear you're a gamer," the man said, "one of the best. I need you to do something for me."

"Huh? Who are you?" she demanded, her "stranger danger" alarms going off.

"Chuck Norris," the man stated.

Huh. Well, shit. Guess there was nothing she could do there. Come on, this was Chuck Norris for crying out loud! She wouldn't be able to get two feet without getting a roundhouse kick to the head and getting killed.

"W-what do you want?" she stuttered.

"I need someone to take my place for a game of golf with God," Chuck Norris said. No, he didn't explain, he just said it like it was.

"But I don't know how to play golf!" she exclaimed, wincing slightly as she realized she was telling Chuck Norris "No."

"It's Wii golf."

Wait, Wii? He wanted her to pwn God in a game of golf on the Nintendo Wii?

Well, show her the way man. If there was one thing she loved doing above anything else, it was pwning n00bs.

"Lead the way Mr. Norris," she said, her eyes twinkling in excitement.

* * *

Charlie trudged through the crowd of students that were meandering their way to the gym, going as slow as they possibly could. Not that she was in any rush, mind you, but really. Couldn't these people walk at a faster pace or something? It was bugging her to no end.

Rolling her eyes when the student traffic began to bottleneck as they got closer to the gym, she looked away, scratching her nose, when something caught her eye.

There was someone standing in the hallway, not going along with the flow of students. She recognized the posture, the aura of arrogance that surrounded the figure and just the whole evil nature of him.

It was Bain.

He too had a backpack on like everyone else but he didn't seemed concerned that he was probably not going to be able to sit in the bleachers if he didn't hurry up. He was up to something, she knew that much from this weekend but she guessed that something about this sudden assembly was involved.

Changing the direction she walking in, she forced her way to a wall, shoving people out of her way when they proved to be obstacles in her path.

Sure she may be skipping something that might be important but finding out what Bain was up to was infinitely more preferable.

* * *

The noise of countless people talking at the same time was cacophonous but Stan wasn't bothered by the noise level. As a teenager, he was used to it and actively participating in raising the volume of sound. All around him were familiar faces, like Kenny, Craig and his gang and others. A few rows in front of him was the pink blob he knew only as Sunny Dee, the girl being quiet and contend in her blandness.

A few seats over from her was Skittles and her friend Ryleigh. Skittles looked like she was about to cry at any moment while Ryleigh was beside her trying to comfort her. A few seats over from him he could see Wendy with Bebe and the two looked worried about something. There was that Kim girl sitting in front of the two and he could see that she looked put out about something, probably because Kyle wasn't here.

He could relate.

Beside him, Kenny took a seat, looking bored. The blond glanced at him and gave him a wry smile. "You hear about what happened to Brandon?"

"Why?" he asked if only because there was nothing else to do but wait. "Does he still have that lobster claw?"

"Not anymore," Brandon grumbled from right behind him. "It was cool for a bit but do you know what shit I had to do to get rid of it? That fucking doctor had me running all the way to Salt Lake City where Godzilla was coming back to life and guess who had to fight him? The fucking doctor pulled a "Honey I Blew Up the Kid," and next thing I know, I'm fifty stories tall!"

"Bitch, bitch, bitch, that's all I hear," Stan said dully. "Ever get sent to a dark oblivion by Cthulhu?"

"Uh…no?" Brandon said slowly, eying him weirdly.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Stan said.

"Wow, you sound like you're on your period," Kenny pointed out.

"Fuck off," he grumbled. "I so don't want to be here. It's fucking freezing in here."

"Why do they have the A/C on anyway?" Kenny agreed. "I'm freezing my balls off!"

They weren't the only ones complaining either. From across the gym, they could both hear Garrison crying out about what the Mexican son of a bitch who ran this school thought he was doing.

Being cheap, Stan thought to himself. Christ, this better be quick.

* * *

Everyone was almost in place. Bain narrowed his eyes as he studied a few stragglers heading towards the gym. He'd wait a couple minutes before making his move but in the meantime, he would keep out of sight so that he wouldn't be dragged in himself.

It wouldn't do to be pulled into his own trap and not be able to trigger it. Then they would all be forced to stay in the gym for who knew how long and by then, someone would have discovered Principal Esteban's body and then everything would go to shit.

From where he stood, he looked up and down the hallway, making sure that no one else was coming. Had he looked a second too late, he wouldn't have caught some movement further down the hallway and when he focused on where he had seen it, he was barely able to make out that someone else was there, hiding.

There could only be one person at this point who would be hiding and keeping an eye on him at the same time. Well, let her do as she wished, he was still up for a bit of a challenge. She'd make him work for this and that in and of itself would only make this all the sweeter when he succeeded.

Looking away from where he knew Charlotte was watching him, he searched for anybody else, making quick glances to the gym entrance to see if anybody was still getting in or keeping it open. He spotted an inattentive teacher close the door and knew that an opportunity had been given to him. He would have preferred that the doors be left open just a bit longer, to catch anyone else he may have missed, but sometimes you had to act when you had to act.

Quickly, he unzipped his backpack and slid his hand in, gripping onto some chains he had in there. Stopping in front of the door, he pulled the chains out and began to wrap them in and around the door handles. Once he had wrapped the whole length in and around the handles, he held onto the chain with one hand while reaching back into his backpack, searching for the industrial grade lock he had gotten his hands on.

Finally pulling it out, he stuck the lock loop through various chain links before clicking it closed and sealing those foul-mouthed bastards within. There would be no way that they would be able to break through the doors before the freezing process began and the fire axes that had been kept within had already been removed.

Phase one was complete and now for the final one.

* * *

Charlie felt dread balling up in her gut as she watched Bain's lock click into place. He had just locked them all in but why?

She was sure she would soon find out.

Okay, Bain was heading away, back down the hall and away from the gym. Where was he going? What was he up to?

Her eyes widened as she saw him pull out a fire axe that he had obviously hid in a trashcan, his pace never faltering for a second. He was heading somewhere with firm intent and he was in a hurry from how fast he was moving, covering distance quickly despite his short stature. She trailed after him, not wanting to let him in on the fact that she was following him yet not wanting to lose sight of him either.

Bain came to a stop in front of a janitor's closet and with the axe, he hardly bothered to exercise restraint as he chopped the axe's blade into the door. He yanked what was suppose to be a tool of rescue back and swung it back into the door again, heedless of the camera that was recording his every move.

She had to think: had he lost it? He was usually more aware of his surroundings than this.

Watching Bain go at it, each thwack of the axe blade echoing through the hallways, she waited to see what he was going to do. Pulling the axe away one final time, Bain stuck a hand through the hole he had made and opened the janitor's closet. With the door opened, she could see him partially enter the closet but he emerged almost immediately, pulling out a mop and a yellow, wheeled janitor bucket. She watched as he pulled some cleaning liquids and dumped them into the wheeled bucket, filling it up and then sticking the mop into the mixture.

Heedless of whether or not he was making a mess, Bain began to tow the bucket behind him as he headed towards one of the school's exits.

By now, Charlie was no longer intrigued. She just wanted to get down to the bottom of this already. She no longer made an effort to hide her presence but Bain didn't acknowledge her until he came to a stop and glanced around, his eyes freezing her in place.

"Hello Charlotte," he greeted in that velvety yet scratchy voice of his that made her spine tingle. Damn, she hadn't heard him really speak like that in a long time, not counting Saturday as she figured out he had kept his voice soft. Right now he was speaking to her as if he didn't care if anybody heard him.

Now, she had questions coming out her ass that she was wanting to ask but there was really only one that seemed the most important. It didn't matter what Bain was doing and it didn't matter why he was doing it.

"When?" she asked, eyes hardening on him as she clenched a fist.

Bain blinked at her, as if not expecting her to say that. He lost that look of surprise soon enough as the corner of his lips curled upwards slightly. "Friday," he answered casually. "After detention I believe."

"And you said nothing?" she pressed.

"Naturally," he replied.

She glared at him but for a moment. Then she sighed, her tense shoulders slumping slightly. "Honestly, why should I be surprised?"

Bain only chuckled in response as he continued to stare her down.

"I don't know what exactly it is you are doing," she spoke up when it became obvious that he wasn't going to say anything. "To be honest, I don't care why you're doing it."

That seemed to prompt Bain into speaking. "Then why are you here, Charlotte?" he asked though from the way his eyes were twinkling in mirth, he gave the impression that he already knew. "Aren't you going to try and stop me?"

"Don't I always?" she countered smoothly. "It just makes my day when I find some way to piss you off."

"Sarcasm really befits you, doesn't it?" Bain asked rhetorically.

"You would know," she replied.

"Indeed I would," he agreed, "but you know, there is something I've never really got about you. We are more alike that we would like to admit but whereas I have an embittered hatred to all humanity, you stick up for those pricks, opposing my every step. Why? Why be the alpha to my omega?"

"That's because you're targeting my friends and family," she interrupted.

"I am just resolving my issues," Bain said blithelessly. "Can I help it if those resolutions involve a lot of blood and possibly death?"

"You've been attacking Rhiannon all because she gave you a kiss on the cheek," she said dryly. "I will agree with you that there are a bunch of pricks here but I'm not going to let you kill them because of some sick sense of revenge."

At this, Bain laughed heartily at her. Charlie swallowed, slightly startled by the reaction but at the same time she felt like she would melt into a puddle. He was…he was actually laughing at something she said like it was a joke! And it wasn't one of those dark or arrogant chuckles he did all the time but an actual, genuine laugh.

"Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte," he said with condescension. "I'm not going to kill them! Whatever gave you that idea? No, I want them to suffer and the dead do not suffer. I want them all to regret they ever thought messing with me was a fun idea of theirs and I want them to know that it was me who hurt them, hurt them all!"

"But why not just go after the ones that picked on you?" Charlie demanded. "Most of those people in there did nothing!"

"Exactly!" Bain exclaimed. "They did nothing! They saw me being shoved into a garbage can and they did _nothing_! They're just as guilty as those assholes who did it!"

"Alright! They should have done something!" she admitted. "But that doesn't mean they have to suffer too! You don't have to do this, whatever it is you're going to do."

"That's where you're wrong," he said darkly. "I finally had a second chance at life, a chance to start it all over again! Be a normal person for once! You think I want to be like this? Alone and hated by everyone? I was once an innocent child too, one with big dreams and who just wanted to make my parents proud! But do you know what happened? People walked all over me and if I couldn't make them feel better about their selves, then I might as well may have been dead for all they cared!

"I have a cunt of a sister who has to have everybody's attention and be the beau of the ball, like she's _entitled_ to it just by _existing_! I have parents who are so neglectful and with the most awful parenting skills you have ever seen! My mother treats me like I'm still a toddler and my father doesn't have the spine to just sit down with me and forge a relationship!

"And don't get me started on every motherfucker in this school. We'd be here forever. No, I wasn't born like this Charlotte, I was _made_. Every time I was forgotten, every time I was snubbed because of a physical deformity," here he pointed at his left, green eye that contrasted vividly with his right, brown eye, "every time I trusted only to be burned, it was all them! Every fucking single one of them! And they all have the _gall_ to think they're the ones in the right? The normal ones who perform all these altruistic feats and save the fucking day because they are the _good guys_ but at the same time they are the most selfish, prideful, glutinous people you could ever meet!

"They made me but they don't want to take responsibility," he grounded out, "and when I do show up on their collective radars, they try to pass me off as some wacko who doesn't fit in and because of that, I deserve to be socially outcasted. Well, let's see them try to pass this off when it is clear they are in the wrong and I have the recorded evidence to back that claim!"

* * *

"Christ, would someone turn off the damn A/C?" Garrison complained. He didn't have a coat on and unlike a lot of people, he was really feeling the cold. "I swear, that fucking wetback is doing this to get to me."

Peering in annoyance at his fellow teachers and seeing them not doing anything, something in him snapped.

"Okay, that's it! I'm turning up the heat!" he declared as he went in search of a thermostat control. There had to be one somewhere in here, right?

It didn't take him long to find the thermostat, however, he discovered that the condition of it was less to be desired. It looked like someone had smashed the damn thing in and practically torn it out of the wall.

"Huh, that doesn't look good," Garrison said to himself.

* * *

"Will you listen to yourself!" Charlie interrupted. "You're blaming everyone for the way you turned out, everyone but yourself! That's pathetic Bain. I really expected more out of you that some whinny emo kid who should be on Oprah. You're the one to blame because you did nothing to change your situation. You just went along with it so that you could feel like you wouldn't be able to blame yourself. Well, you're preaching to the wrong choir; I had fucking cancer. I should be dead now but I'm not. I'm still breathing and it's because _I_ chose to."

"And I guess that's why I'm attracted to you," Bain sneered at her. "You're just as hypocritical as me and yet you take responsibility. When I woke up in the hospital all those weeks ago, you didn't abandon me; you stayed by my side, taking responsibility. You can admit you are in the wrong yet you are so afraid to show weakness. You keep those who you really care about close to your chest and you treasure them. Can you blame me for trying to get a little of that for myself?"

She was stunned by the confession. Sure, it was twisted in a way that was solely Bain but that didn't stop her heart from hammering within her chest.

"Speechless, eh?" Bain commented self-depreciatingly. "You've probably never had someone outside of your family tell you that. But it takes a lot to impress me and what you did, trying to look out for me when my memory was gone, that was impressive. It touches me, right here," he placed his hand over where his heart was. "I don't mind if you don't return the sentiments and I don't care. All it means is that I'm going to try and court you. My way, of course."

Charlie found herself blushing red. She…she didn't know how to handle this…

* * *

The jugs of polypropylene continued to remain in their bondage, each one having been inserted into the fire sprinkler system for nearly two days by now. The butcher paper that had once capped them was now thoroughly soaked in the compound and small droplets were leaking through and into the pipes.

It wouldn't take much in order to force them to release their contents.

* * *

"Got a light on you?"

She blinked at the unexpected question. Bain was looking at her as if expecting an answer but when one wasn't forthcoming, he shrugged and said, "That's all right. I came prepared."

She watched in fascination as Bain took out a matchbook and plucked a match out of it. Lighting the match with a quick motion, he dropped it into the forgotten, yellow janitor's bucket. Flames burst from it and Bain removed the mop from it, now more of a torch instead of a cleaning instrument.

Winking at her, he said, "Word of advice: run, don't walk to the nearest exit."

With those vague words, he rammed the flaming mop right up into a fire sprinkler.

* * *

The system was triggered.

The sprinkler pipes opened themselves to the water main that ran under the school and began to suck in the liquid as quickly as possible. The pressure exerted was enough to tear open the butcher paper and allow the polypropylene to enter the pipes as well.

As the coolant rushed in, water followed behind it in a rushing torrent.

* * *

There was a shrill ring in the air that caught Stan's attention almost immediately and as he looked up to find the source of the sound, the fire sprinklers turned on and began to pepper everyone with small droplets of water.

In no time at all, he was soaked and his already foul mood sank down another notch. Well wasn't this great? After waiting forever for what the school had planned in a ball-freezing room, the fire alarm was going off and drenching them.

He so wanted to kill someone right now.

He ignored the wails of many girls as they cried out in sorrow about their now ruined makeup, preferring instead to get out of here as soon as possible like many others were. Garrison passed by and he could hear the teacher cursing the principal under his breath like this was all his fault.

"Do you think they'll let us off for today?" Kenny asked optimistically beside him.

They better.

"Hey!" someone cried out. "The door won't open!"

Stan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Great, one less place to get out of here.

"Why won't this fucking door open?" someone swore on the other side of the gym.

Wait, Stan frowned to himself, why were two doors unable to be opened? And why did it seem like it was getting colder in here all of a sudden?

One by one, he overheard other people complaining about the other exits not opening and Stan began to feel a ball of dread well up in his gut. Something was not right; why would someone lock them all in the gym and then try to flood it? Give them hypothermia or something?

He whipped his head around, searching for a potential point of escape and as he did so, he saw Kenny right beside him, completely blue.

Wait, were those icicles hanging off of him?

Kenny's eyes were wide and his teeth were clattering as more and more water rained down on them until they stopped clattering altogether. There was a crackling sound in the air, as if something was freezing up…oh Christ.

He watched in horror as Kenny froze up into a block of ice but before he could cry out a rendition of his famous catch phrase, the ice around Kenny's feet began spreading out. Ice was beginning to form on the raven-haired jock, his movements slowing down as whatever had happened to Kenny was happening to him now.

From the cries of others, he assumed that he was not the only one this was happening to and as he began to say, "Oh my G—" the freezing process had rendered him immobile. Students continued to panic as the ice continued to spread, capturing them all several at a time and with the doors locked, there was no way they could get out.

There was no way out…

* * *

Bain's boots crunched on the gravel as he strolled away from the school. Looking at the building, you would have no idea of the chaos that was occurring within it but Bain calculated that in a couple of more minutes, emergency response vehicles would be on the scene. However, by then it would be too late. All those assholes would be popsicles and it would be some time after that before they found Estrada.

Best of all, he had kept all the security cameras off so that no one would have any proof he was responsible. He had made sure to double check the system's status before he had left Estrada's office and since by then Estrada was unconscious from bloodloss, there was nothing to worry about.

All in a day's work.

"Bain!"

He stopped and turned slightly, eying Charlotte as she approached him. Though he could see she was a little wet, the outdoor temperatures were too warm for any of the coolant to have an effect on her. Still, he braced himself, waiting for the anticipated punch the girl would more than likely throw at him.

Such a violent girl, she could be.

He could hear the alarms in the distance; fire trucks and police vehicles were on their way. What would be the odds they would spot the two of them on the side of the road? It all depended on which direction they were coming from but he was sure that no one would be paying them any attention. The authority figures in this town were notoriously incompetent so anyone spotting them wouldn't give it a second thought.

"Where are you going?" she demanded. "What did you do?"

"Doesn't matter anymore, does it?" he replied flippantly. "There's nothing you can do to change anything and all the emergency workers are going to have their hands full with it. So, I'm going home."

"That's it?" she said incredulously.

"There's no point in staying," Bain shrugged. "I've got a free pass to senior year. I don't have to do anything now. Besides, they all are going to have their hands full that they're just going to declare school canceled for the day. This makes you pretty much open, doesn't it?"

"What are you getting at?" she asked though there was no accusing tone in her voice. She sounded as if she really was curious about what he was leading to.

"You really are so dense, Charlotte," he chided as he reached into his backpack one more time. "Being blunt always seems to be the way to go with you, so let me put it this way." Pulling his hand back out, he held between his fingers a rose with petals blackened and shriveled with age and held it up to her in offering. "We have nothing that requires our presence so why not allow me to treat you to a little tryst."

"Hold up," Charlie said, holding a hand up. "Are…are you asking me out? On a date?"

"If that makes you feel better, then yes," Bain deadpanned.

Damn it, she was smirking at him now. She took the rose from his hand and cupped both her hands against the back of her head with the rose intertwined in her fingers, taking up a relaxed stance. "Don't tell me you're a closet romantic," she teased. "And here I thought you were a wannabe badass with a knife fetish."

"Stop grinding my nerves or I'll take my offer back," he growled.

"Sorry, Mr. Sensitive," she drawled. "Sure, lead away. Let's see if you can treat a girl right."

Mockingly, Bain bowed at his waist, extending his arm out courteously. "After you, my little whore."

"Fine by me, bastard," she retorted good-naturedly.

* * *

"_In the early hours of morning, firemen and police were alerted to a catastrophe of freezing proportions! An entire school of high school students and teachers were found locked in their gym, all of them turned into giant iceblocks. This is reminiscent of a girl who was admitted to the hospital a few days before in which hospital staff was told that they had eleven minutes to thaw her out or else she'd be frozen forever._

"_Ambulances were called from all over the area to tend to the disaster where it was estimated that it would take hundreds of dollars to fix the damages but that the school would be asking for tens of thousands in order to make it look worse than it was. School in South Park can safely be called off until its students can be thawed. Pretty cool, huh Tom?_

"_In breaking news, only hours ago, police arrived to arrest the govenator himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger, for allegedly trying to freeze the world and hold it ransom. After a twenty hour standoff in which hundreds of police and SWAT members were killed, the Govenator abandoned the governor's office looking just like the Terminator. This was because the Govenator apparently found out the location of where Sarah Conner was hiding and tried to kill her so that her son John Conner wouldn't be born to stop the robot apocalypse from occurring which led to the situation being resolved._

"_Unfortunately, all of Southern California was destroyed, killing billions of people, only a tenth of them white people. There were also a bunch of African Americans and Hispanics but who really cares about them? They were liberal pussies anyway. But Sarah Conner managed to survive and drove off into the desert but we weren't suppose to tell you that._

"_In other news—"_

The TV flashed off, light dimming from its screen quickly until the black surface began to reflect the image of a couple sitting snugly on a black leathered couch. One looked at home on the couch, his arm draped over the other who had a look about them that expressed the desire to be anywhere other than there.

Damien tapped his fingers lightly against his captive's orange jacket as he let his red eyes adjust to the sudden lack of light in the dim lighting of the room that made one feel they were in the heart of evil itself. Though it looked like his arm was laid casual, it was lazily keeping his captive in place, forcing him to endure his company whether he wanted it or not.

And it wasn't as if Kyle had any choice in the matter. The Antichrist would keep him here until he was sure his captive knew of his claim upon him and only then would he allow him to return to the surface.

He felt Kyle shift against him nervously and he shifted his eyes down to look at the Jewish boy inquisitively. Kyle though was purposely not looking at him, something that Damien made a mental note of to change. There was only one place those eyes should be looking and that place was not away from him.

"Speak, young Hebrew," he commanded. "Tell me what it is that is on your mortal mind." Kyle swallowed and opened his mouth to speak to him, more than likely fearful of his reaction, but Damien interrupted him. "Look at me when you speak. It's either that or you say nothing."

Kyle nodded and slowly yet fearfully raised his eyes up to him. This was good; they were making progress. "Can…can I go home please? My mom…she's gotta to be wondering where I am and worried about me."

"And?" Damien pressed, aware that the mortal boy was not telling him everything. He tightened his arm around the Jew, nonverbally warning him not to hold back.

"I…I-I-I want to see if Stan is all right," Kyle blurted out, closing his eyes as if he was bracing himself for some kind of horrible punishment. "The news…it said that something happened at school. I want to find out if my friends are okay."

Damien hummed in his throat. "That's good Kyle. It's a reasonably request but it's also one I can answer for you. If they are dead, it would only take me five minutes to find out everything. But if I was to let you return to the surface, what guarantee would I have that you wouldn't try to run? You should know by now that I'm not the type that you fuck with."

Kyle looked away, nodding his head sullenly. Looking back at him because that was what he had been told to do, he then asked, "Are you ever going to let me go?"

"Eventually," he told him. "But not before I ingrain into your mind and soul one thing, that you belong to me now. Until then, I don't want you leaving my sight, Kyle."

Kyle whimpered as he shifted uncomfortably against him.

"It's not so bad," Damien admonished. "You'll get use to it in time. You'll get used to _me_ in time. And—"

"Damien? Honey!" his dark father's voice interrupted from another room. "I'm stepping out for a while. Do you need anything? More goat's milk? Another still beating heart?"

Damien frowned and looked over the back at the couch, replying, "No!"

"What about your little friend? Would he like some custard human leg?"

"We're fine!" Damien shouted back, becoming more and more annoyed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

All right, all right, I'll see you later. Don't torture you're little friend too badly while I'm gone and if you do, try to keep it down. You kept me up all night with those moans and screams and—"

"Father!" he practically screeched, his face red from partial embarrassment.

"Yes, yes, well, see you later…"

Damien took deep breaths, his chest rising and lowering, pushing Kyle up and down and making him more fearful for his immortal soul. Finally, Damien seemed to calmed down and with one hand, he began to comb the Jew's fiery locks, his clawed fingernails scratching his scalp gently like he was a pet. Humans liked these things, right?

"You have no need to be afraid of me," he finally said. "I'm not that bad, am I? Sure, I'm evil incarnate but once you get to know me…well, I can be quite _friendly_."

Kyle shivered against him.

"Now don't be like that," he said. "I know you enjoyed it. You enjoyed it more than you let on. Just accept it, let go of those pesky inhibitions that restrict you so. We all have but one life to live so why not live it to its fullest?" His hand stilled but he kept it sitting on Kyle's head, not doing anything with it.

A moment of silence encompassed them, neither of them saying anything as they laid sprawled out on the couch, letting time pass them by without interruption. Damien sniffed the Jew's hair, taking in its unkempt and unwashed scent that he never seemed to get tired of.

"I…I don't understand," Kyle finally spoke. "Why me? Why?"

"Because, out of all the mortals I've chatted with, I like you the best," Damien said, keeping a hint of vagueness in his voice. "You are so honest, so naïve of how the world really works, so much so that I want to do anything in my power to corrupt you.

"But don't think this story is about to end. No, there are too many plotlines without satisfactory resolutions left, including ours," he continued, his eyes peering straight ahead as if he was speaking to someone else. "No, we'll have our conclusions in due time but it will take at least a sequel to resolve it all. So, until then, you are mine to do with as I wish Kyle.

"And as you've probably found out already, my pet, I don't like to share. With anyone. So pat yourself on the back for making it this far."

Damien's eyes glowed red as he peered straight into your eyes as you read these very words. "It could be worse. You could have wasted your time like the poor schmucks reading this."

* * *

Author's Note: That's right, I'm continuing some subplots from this fic in my upcoming one. However, I will still require you submit your OCs for that one when it comes out if only because it makes it easier for me to know who I have to work with. Either that or you can send me a PM now and give me permission to continue using your OCs. If you say nothing, they will be disregarded for those that respond. That's just the way I'm doing this, no disrespect to anyone. So, until the New Year.


End file.
